Anon's Bizarre Side Story
by ThePriddiestManAlive
Summary: Anonas Kiedis lived a boring life in the outskirts of a big city. He was content to living with the boring days. However, after finding a splattered corpse, Anon has been introduced to the bizarre nature of his world. Something is warping the heart of the city, and it's spreading like a plague. Anon has strange new powers and his city is sinking into chaos.
1. I'm Shakin So Much

**Chapter One**

It wasn't until the sun had risen and the students came trickling into school that the body was found. What was left of Mr. Leon was splattered across the hallway. The mess was so unrecognizable that if it wasn't for the ID lying a few feet away from it, Anonas would have had a hard time telling that it used to be a person.

Up until a few hours ago Anonas Kiedis was having an unusual but pretty alright Friday. He awoke with plenty of energy. He had left for school a bit early, the sun just minutes away from rising. It felt nice out that cool morning, light just barely coming in over the city in the distance, so he had decided to walk.

It was perfectly nice out as he walked down the streets leading to his high school. It was perfectly quiet out too, few cars passed by and for whatever reason there were no birds on this particular street. Again, it was perfectly nice out and Anonas felt it. Although he himself felt quite strange. Something was bugging him, like a slight tug at the back of his mind. There was no howling wind, the sky was no inky abyss, but still he felt... something. Something crawling up his spine. It was like something was slowly inching its way up his back until it very carefully reached out to graze his face.

There was a roaring noise as a car sped past Anonas. It blew his messy mop of black and blonde hair and his thoughts all over the place. Whatever it was that he had been feeling was gone now. Looking up he could see that despite the speed it was going the car had just come to a stop at the red light about 30 feet ahead. Anonas turned to look at the vehicle as he started to pass it up.

When he glanced at his reflection in the cars back window he noted two things, both of which were concerning but only one of which was out of the ordinary . First of all, his hair was a mess he had always been a stereotypical pretty boy, especially with his hair. Secondly and more distressingly, there was a figure standing behind him.

He could barely see it in the window of the car, but it was there. It was impossible to make out its face while gazing into the dull reflection and Anonas wasn't about to turn around to look at it. He wasn't going to accept its existence by turning to acknowledge it. Anonas' acceptance however didn't matter to the figure. It slunk forward and extended its hand, reaching towards Anonas' cheek.

The skin on the hand looked dead. Its pale blue knuckles creaked as its fingers reached out. As the hand came closer, its reflection becoming more clear, Anonas noticed several long gashes and scars crisscrossing down its fingertips. Something oozed out of the cuts and dripped down its wrist. Anonas turned quickly, no longer able to ignore whatever it was that was standing behind him. Nothing was there. Absolutely nothing unusual was standing behind him. No figure, no oozing hand.

'What?' Was the only thought that was going through Anonas' mind at the moment. He breathed in deeply, closed his eyes... and then proceeded to run the rest of the way to school.

Leaving that behind him, Anonas hoped that the rest of the day would play out as normal. However after arriving early and walking to his locker those hopes of having a peaceful day were almost immediately dashed.

Before Anonas had even opened the heavy double doors leading into the back hallway he knew something was wrong. He couldn't see into the doors' windows as they were completely caked in a dark sticky substance. Not only that but when Anonas tried to push the door open inward towards the hallway he found himself unable to. The doors had a large dent near their base, facing outwards towards Anonas. He slammed himself against the double doors. He could hear the hinges screaming to give way when he put his weight against it. He slammed his shoulder into it once more in an effort to get the door to work properly. Finally after the fourth or fifth attempt the door swung open with an audible pop. He fell forward, nothing supporting his weight. The landing was rough, a shallow pain rushing through Anonas' head as it made contact with the floor. Additionally, Anonas also felt something wet on his face.

He wiped it off with the back of his hand, groaning as he pushed himself up. All that Anonas could see when he opened his eyes was crimson, first he saw the blood on his own hands that he had previously been on his cheek. Then he saw the carnage lying ahead of him.

Several feet down the hallway the lower half of a body was sprawled out in a heap. What was left of the torso was no longer connected to the legs, having been turned into the mushy sanguine paste that was covering the hall.

It looked like whoever it was had exploded. The lockers lining the hall were dented away from the corpse, just like the doors had been. They also appeared to be burnt slightly. Anonas could imagine that if he had been here when whatever it was that happened had occurred, he would have been lucky to get away with only third degree burns.

Now, after an extensive questioning from the police, Anonas was forced to sit and talk to the school counselor. He felt small sitting in the recliner in the corner of the room. It and the silence in the cold windowless office was beginning to envelop him. The only break in the bleakness of the walls were the paintings made by counselor himself. The only break in the quiet was the tapping of Mr. Johnson fingers on the hard surface of the desk. Besides the seemingly frantic rate of the tapping, the room felt completely stagnant. The door was closed so no sound could leak in from the hallway, the blinds on the window were also closed preventing any natural light. The air in the room tasted stale as well.

Seemingly one eternity later Mr. Johnson opened his mouth as if he was going to say something. Strangely he couldn't get anything out at first, just a quiet choking noise. He closed his mouth, swallowed, and then cleared his throat.

"So, Anonas, are we going to talk or do you still need more time to... process?"

In response, Anonas slunk down deeper into the enveloping mass of the arm chair.

"Your friends call you Anon, right? May I call you that."

Anon closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in. He definitely did need more time to process. Needless to say seeing the eviscerated mess that used to be one of the school's janitors was more than a bit taxing on his psyche. Not only that but the way Mr. Johnson was tapping his fingers and the way he spoke was slightly upsetting to him. He wasn't quite sure what it was about the counselor's way of speech that was so unnerving but whatever it was, Anon didn't like it.

"Alright, Anonas, I'll stick to that."

Another uncomfortable silence followed after Mr. Johnson finished his sentence. He leaned back in his seat and pushed his glasses up to his forehead. Now that they weren't in the way, Anon was more closely able to examine his face. The counselor's eyes were scrunched, his thin cheeks pushing his bottom eye lid up ever so slightly. He kept looking towards the door, glancing at it every few seconds. He looked upset.

Anon shook it off, a man was dead. Not only that but he had been totally maimed inside of the very building they were currently in. It wasn't surprising for the tender hearted Mr. Johnson to be visibly upset. Hell, Anon was starting to think it was a little weird for him to suddenly start being critical of his counselor's emotions.

Wanting to break the now even more awkward silence, he decided to finally do what he was forced to come here to do. Anon talked.

"Mr. Johnson," he began slowly, "am I under suspicion for what happened to Mr. Leon?"

Mr. Johnson considered this for a moment. He pulled the glasses off his head and set them down gently on the desk with a loud exhale

"No, Anonas, I don't think so. If you were I doubt you would have the luxury of chatting my ear off right now." He chuckled nervously as he finished his sentence, realizing that it may be inappropriate to crack even the slightest of jokes. He cleared his throat.

"Anonas, a teenager couldn't have done... Th-that. I find it hard to believe that any human would be able to do it. I don't see any reason for you to be a suspect other than you being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Anon took this in, that was his main concern and he was glad to have it addressed. Understandably the corpse, and what its discovery meant for him was all that he could think about. The image of the gore laden hall had been absolutely seared into his retinas.

Mr. Johnson was right, it did seem doubtful that a person would be physically capable of doing what happened to the janitor. That's what was so terrifying about all of this, that a person couldn't do that, but a monster could.

Like the thing he saw in the car window.

"Mr. Johnson, could you drive me home? I don't think it's safe to walk."

As soon as he walked through the door to his home Anon stormed up to his room and crumpled onto his bed. He felt a little bad that he had said nothing to his mother when he arrived home, the poor thing must have been worried sick about him. He couldn't help it though, he was mentally and physically exhausted and just couldn't bring himself to even open his mouth. He'd make it up to her tomorrow, but now was the time for him to get some much needed sleep.

This proved to be a tough endeavor. Images of the scene kept leaking into mind, closing his eyes just invited these images in. Every time he thought about it he could feel a heavy ball of nerves settling in the pit of his stomach. His intestines winding themselves into painful knots. Thinking about it was eating away at him. Despite the gnawing in the back of his mind and his innards twisting themselves into knots, he managed to drift off to sleep. He didn't find any peace in his dream however.

Even in his dreams he could feel that creeping sensation taking hold of him. A paralyzing fear that stuck its claws into him. A beast sinking its fangs into his throat to trap him in a writhing terror. The fear was accompanied by a voice. It was calm, and although it came with the fear, Anon didn't associate the voice with it. If he hadn't been subject to the horror of his dreams he would have thought of it as almost being kind and gentle. Although he couldn't make out its words the very feeling of it snapped his sleeping mind into awareness.

He was very much still asleep, but Anon found himself in a room. A long windowed hall that twisted and bent, its very foundation sinking in and out of existence. Peering down that hall he heard the voice again, this time he could make out what it was saying.

"Hear me... Hear me as I hear the inner you. The you that I hear..."

The vibrations of the sound violently rocked the hall, the windows cracked and some even shattered from the noise. It was simultaneously going through Anon's own head and ringing out through the hall.

"That voice deep in you core. That voice deep in your own inner cage…"

Anon heard a crash, followed by glass clattering around the mirage like ground, ending with a heavy smack. His heart skipped a beat upon hearing it. He spun around fearfully, trying to make out whatever it was that had just smashed his way into the hallway. He saw nothing. Nothing was there. He was about to turn back around, writing it off as just another window breaking from the sheer force of the voice in his head. Then he saw the glass on the ground, more specifically he saw cracks very slowly spider webbing their way across the material until it exploded into a rain of sharp bits. There was a footprint where the glass was, monstrous in shape.

"Take my voice. Take my will..."

Anon turned and bolted. More glass shattered around him as the voice reverberated through the world. Not only that, but Anon imagined more deformed foot prints were starting to appear behind him. His fear chasing him.

"Take this key. Let my cries be the catalysts that unlocks your cage..."

The hallway groaned, the very ground that Anon was treading crumbling into dust beneath his feet. The illusory tiles of the floor fading until they were nothing more than a memory. Void was consuming the hallway, turning all that Anon perceived into an inky haze. The haze consumed him and soon he was falling.

"The catalyst that lets you evolve. The catalyst that turns you into a higher being..."

He landed hard. His whole body was vibrating from the shock of the fall, and quaking from the fear. It wasn't until a few seconds had passed and his mind stopped ringing that Anon realized he had crammed his eyes shut. He opened them. Filling his view was the figure he had seen in the car's blurry window. Before he could scream before he could react, before he could even process, the thing's scarred leaking hands shot out and grabbed him by his hair.

He was lifted off the ground. He felt absolutely weightless in the figures pale blue grip. More weightless than when he had been falling. Soon he was face to face with the figure's grinning skull of a face.

Anon's screams shook him awake. He sat up, sucking down ragged breaths. He felt like he was choking. Sweat drenched him and his sheets, looking down he could see that he had kicked off his blankets. Anon guessed that he must have been thrashing around in his sleep. It made sense considering how physically exhausted he felt, not to mention breathless. Altogether it felt like he really had been running from something, the stress of the nightmare taking a physical toll. Moonlight was trickling in through the blinds, illuminating the tiniest bit of the bedroom. The bit of vision it allowed was only a small comfort, but Anon appreciated it nonetheless. Total darkness wasn't something he was wanting to experience. In the pitch black he would be able to imagine the monster looking in. Imagine it scratching at his door.

Slowly Anon's heart began to beat at a normal rate. He no longer felt exhausted, he wasn't even a little tired. He wiped the sweat off his brow, his breathing gradually becoming normal. It must have been early in the morning, the sun had yet to rise but it probably wasn't going to be long until it did so. Anon's guess was that it was close to being 6 am. After his nightmare however, there was no way he was going to be able to just go back to sleep. Hell, he was barely able to close his eyes, much less keep them shut. He sat on his bed, his chin resting on his knees, letting the time pass by. Letting the world around him sink in. He was beginning to forget what it was supposed to be like in the first place. Things were seemingly changing. Laws were being rewritten. The figure, the corpse, the voice in his head, the invisible monster in his nightmare. It was like these experiences were corroding reality, or at least Anon's reality.

The room slowly began to grow brighter, the orange light of the sun rise leaking in through the blinds. Anon's eyes squinted as the light crept across his face. The pale orange beam of sunshine felt all too familiar to him. It was at this time yesterday that the world around him began to warp. He found it hard to believe the strangeness that had transpired had been confined to a single day. It felt like it had been far longer than that, as if Anon had been awake for years after he saw the body. No matter how it felt however, everything happened yesterday. All because he decided to wake before the sun, and to start the day before anyone else. He gritted his teeth, grinding them in frustration. In one quick movement he grabbed his pillow out from behind him and flung it into the wall ahead. It hit with a light 'thwump' and slid ungracefully to the floor. The seconds that followed were filled with Anon's own heavy breathing, rising in tempo as the breath came out though his gritted teeth.

"What the hell! What the hell, what the hell!" he yelled, screaming at nothing but the world around him. He dug his fingers into his sweat drenched sheets and pulled upward, sending them from the bed into the air. He leapt up in a flash, his body suddenly filling up with emotion. His fists clenched, his breathing becoming more ragged. Anything in his way was knocked to the side. Papers were thrown off the desk. A clock exploded as it was thrown against the door. Anon was absolutely steaming, but as he thrashed about and wrecked his room he couldn't figure out why. He was foaming, a deep well of feelings bubbling up from his core turning him white hot. It was impossible for him to know what they were. He could see the figure out of the corner of his eyes, its gnarled skull of a face barely visible in the dark. It was taunting him. Anon could feel it staring into him with its eyeless sockets. It was reaching out, its pale blue skin cracking and leaking that sickening clear liquid. While it was completely silent, Anon could hear the drops of liquid hitting the floor boards in his mind.

He couldn't stand the awful presence that was seemingly behind him. The creaking movements its joints made. The way its teeth clattered. The way that disgusting slime running out of its cuts dripped to the floor. His hand shot out, grabbing a cup off of his night stand. He pivoted, turning around to sling the glass at the thing behind him. "Enough!" he bellowed, jamming his eyes closed and releasing the cup from his grip.

He could here it explode as it hit something hard. Crystalline shards poured around him. He could tell from the noise that the cup had hit the wall, not the figure behind him. His eyes slowly fluttered open, revealing what he already knew to be true. The figure behind him, the thing he kept seeing out of the corner of his eye, was gone. He collapsed to his knees, his feelings sinking back down as quickly as they had risen up. Tiny shards of glass were burying themselves into his shins but he couldn't feel it. Not over the rattling in his brain. His head felt like it was going to explode. When he was little one of his friends had accidentally hit him in the head with a baseball. His head was starting to feel a lot like it did then. Groaning, he pulled himself towards the wall. He slumped against it, a deep burst of air escaping from his lungs as he did so. He was going crazy, there was no getting around it. His mind was really starting to go wild. That's why he kept seeing the monster. Discovering Mr. Leon's splattered corpse must have fried his circuits. It was to be expected, that's what happens when traumatic events occur. Anyone would be seeing things in his position. That's what he was beginning to think, until he noticed the floor.

Now that his frustration had quelled he saw the bits of plastic strewn across the floorboards, the exploded clock scattered around his room. It was strange, he didn't remember throwing it at all. He could remember slamming his fists on his desk, knocking papers into the air, even tossing a few books off their shelf. The clock however, he couldn't recall throwing for the life of him. he was holding the proof that it had been destroyed, but he was pretty sure he didn't throw it. No, that's not right, he was confident that he hadn't so much as looked at the clock until now. If he didn't throw it however, then there was only one other option. It was destroyed by the figure. He tossed the shattered pieces away and looked down at his hands. That thing wasn't, it couldn't be real. He was becoming more disillusioned, breaking things without even realizing it. That must have been it. he was going crazy, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was lying to himself. He pressed his back up against the wall, his hair had fallen out of its braid and was covering his face. With his seething emotions gone Anon was left with nothing but his own confusion, the dark, and the quiet.

The quiet? More confusion welled up inside of Anon as this statement repeated in his mind. The sun had risen, a new day had begun but there was no noise. Specifically, the sound of birds was absent. On any other day Anon wasn't able to escape the persistent chirping of the birds nesting outside his window. Today however he didn't hear so much as a cheep. Upon realizing this a blunt pain shot through his skull. Quiet? Why was it so quiet? He hadn't gone deaf, had he? No, that couldn't be it, he could still hear his heart beating in his ears. The outside world however was silent. Anon stood up, brushing some of the glass off of him. He stumbled through the dark of the room towards the light of the window. He snaked his fingers in between the blinds and pulled them open ever so slightly. Hesitating for a moment before bending down to peer through to the outside world.

Everything looked normal. At least, Anon couldn't spot anything out of the ordinary. It wasn't like everything was on fire or anything like that. It looked exactly how it did yesterday morning when Anonas was walking to school. He was about to turn around and clean up the mess he had created but while Anon was peering through that thin crack in the blinds his suspicions were confirmed. There were no birds. Not a single feather in sight. At least he didn't think there were any birds, he could have just been being unobservant. Anon thought about this for a moment then shook his head. No, he needed to be confident in himself. There were no birds outside, there were no birds as far as the eye could see and there definitely weren't any in earshot.

There were no birds, but why was that so eerily familiar? Another jolt of pain shot through Anon's head as he thought about it. The pain nearly derailed his train of thought, but he managed to get it back on track at the last second. He didn't know why, but ever since he woke up it was becoming increasingly harder to think. He was trying not to let that stop him. He couldn't let this trail get away from it. He had to know what was happening in his neighborhood, he wouldn't be able to ever get it out of his mind. His curiosity needed to be sated. But every time a thought crept into his mind it was pushed back out by his headache. It was like his own body was trying to keep him from following his own innate sense of morbid curiosity.

He jammed his eyes shut and thought hard, ignoring the throbbing in his own mind. The birds were gone today, that he had figured out. What he couldn't figure out is why it was giving him the most painful case of déjà vu. If they were gone today, where did they go? Were they scared of whatever killed Mr. Leon? Somehow that seemed like the most realistic conclusion as to their disappearance… but if they had fled out of fear then when? Was it today? No, Anon was becoming more and more sure of it, it wasn't today. It was the day before, or at least that's when he had noticed. Not only that it was when he had been walking to school when his ears had picked up on the absence of chirping. That's it. That's where he find answers. On his way to school.

As Anon retraced his steps something in the back of his mind was growing more and more aware of his current actions. A man roughly twice his own size had been murdered, turned into a mushy burgundy paste. The culprit of which was starting to look more and more supernatural as the day went on. And here was Anonas Kiedis, a fairly average teenager through and through, walking the road that could presumably lead to him being mutilated beyond recognition. To the voice in the back of his mind, Anon was in all uses of the word, being a total dumbass. He was waltzing up the street to find a possibly supernatural murderer, with absolutely no game plan. Genius.

It wasn't that Anon couldn't hear the screaming in his head, telling him to turn around. It was far different from not knowing the danger. He could very clearly calculate everything that could possibly go wrong in his head. He could see the ways he could get murdered, he could envision all of the thoughts that might come to him as he died. He could even imagine the eulogy that he would be given at his funeral, "he was murdered due to his own stupidity, what a dick." The thought of that Flattering eulogy however wasn't going to hold him back. In fact, being aware of his circumstances was what was currently driving him forward. A hunger was forming in the pit of his stomach, growing stronger every time he discovered a new clue. That hunger had reached its peak as Anon's pace slowed. He had reached his destination. The street he had previously passed on his walk to school. The street where he had first seen the figure stalking him. This was where everything was leading, straight back to the beginning. Somewhere on this strip of houses was what Anon was searching for.

As his steps slowed he stopped and listened. Far off on another street he could hear the sounds of cars running. Here however it was silent. Not a single sound. Just like yesterday there were no birds chirping on this street. He turned his vision to the sky and looked around. Above him was a pure pale blue, not a cloud in sight. There weren't any birds up their either for as far as he could see. It was like they were completely avoiding this entire area.

He continued his slow shuffle down the street. A few feet later he had reached where he first saw the figure. Standing on this strip of road was giving Anon a creeping feeling of dread, like he shouldn't be here. It was powerful enough to make Anon hesitate, to make him want to turn around and head home. He was about to give into it when he saw the car in the driveway.

He recognized it, not in the way that you recognize an object you tend to see in daily life, but in the way that he knew the car. He had ridden in it last night on his way home. It belonged to .

Anon's vision shifted to his left to gaze at the house it was parked in front of. The Johnson residence. As he looked at it the sense of fear in the back of his mind began to howl. He could feel it clattering in his skull, telling him to leave. Telling him that Mr. Johnson living on this street wasn't just a coincidence. It was that same howling fear however that made Anon walk into the house's yard. The same fear that made him climb the steps leading to the front door. Now that the entrance was in front of him it seemed to expand for miles, like reality shifted around the door to make the space between it and Anonas infinite. He clenched his fist and reached towards it, proving that the gap between him and the door was only as foot. He hesitated before knocking, a quiet tapping noise that one would have to struggle to hear. Much to Anon's surprise, as well as his dismay, the light tap of his fist caused the door to move inward. It was already open.

When he stepped through the doorway, crossing the threshold of the house, he knew this was the place. The lights were off creating a darkness that was only pierced by the light coming from the open door. Unlike his office Mr. Johnson's house wasn't cold and sterile. In fact, it felt a bit grimy. It wasn't like there was a layer of dust over everything or trash everywhere. Nothing like that, it was actually fairly clean, the only sign of neglect coming from the tower of unwashed dishes in the kitchen sink. Yet it still felt like Anon was standing in filth and decay. It was sickening, the kind of feeling that makes you neglect to breathe out of fear of whatever smell might breach your nostrils. Eventually though he had to inhale, and when he did he could smell it. The entire place had a distinct odor, like it was burnt. Not only that but it seemed to be wafting from the upstairs, where Anon guessed was Mr. Johnson's room. There was an invisible haze coming from the second floor. A haze that was choking the entirety of the building. A haze that was driving all of the animals away in fear.

It wasn't going to drive Anon away, though. He set his foot down heavily on the first step. He took a deep breath and held it in. After standing there unbreathing for what felt like hours Anon exhaled and tiptoed up the steps.

As soon as he stepped onto the second floor he regretted it. It provided a stark contrast to the downstairs. Garbage was lining the hallway. The burnt smell was undoubtedly stronger up here, almost suffocating. The darkness was more deep as well, Anon's eyes barely able to adjust. Despite urging himself not to, he continued, only to have something under his foot crinkle loudly as he stepped forward. Looking down Anon could see the balls of crumpled up paper seemingly covering up the entire floor. He bent down slowly and grabbed one of the pieces of paper. Uncrumpling it until he could see what was on it. There was a highly detailed drawing on it. Of what exactly, Anon couldn't really tell. It looked like a person, but heavily deformed. Its head was square in shape, with no eyes, but two lip-less mouths that seemed to stretch the entire width of its head. On its neck was a thick bulky collar, studs and spikes lining its top. It was bound in chains and metal, its arms tucked away in a straight jacket. Nails stuck out of its legs. What seemed like an electric clock was mounted to its chest.

Picking up other pieces and looking at them revealed similar drawings, all of the same creature. There was a varying degree of poses and angles. All of them were equally as detailed, which made sense. In the small interactions he had with Mr. Johnson, Anon had gathered that he used to be an artist. Why there were so many destroyed drawings of this one thing, Anon couldn't guess. Though, looking at them for too long caused the knots in his stomach to wind and constrict further. He threw the last of the drawings back down to avoid throwing up.

Now that he had thrown all of the paper out of the way he could continue through the hallway without creating any more noise than he already had. Not that it mattered much anyways, Anon could guess that if anyone was in the house they were probably already aware of his presence. Nonetheless something was telling him to make as little noise as possible as he reached towards what seemed like the bedroom door.

Before he could open it he stopped. Feeling his forehead he realized that he was hot to the touch. Sweat was dripping from his brow and he had started to breathe deeply. His hands were slick and oily. Looking down at them caused his vision to blur and to see double. It was like he was developing a fever. Though, it was easy to assume that it was more mental than physical. His mind holding his body back. He waited for his breathing to return to normal. Then he reached for the door knob, gripping it tightly. The cool metal was pressing into the sweaty flesh of his palms. He opened the door.

What greeted Anon was a familiar sight, one he hoped not to see ever again. There were faint scorch marks on the stained carpeted floor. A baby food like mush, sanguine in color, coated various patches of the room. The cover-less mattress at the far end of the bedroom looked slick and wet to the touch. Something dripped from the ceiling and ran down Anons neck. He could barely contain his insides from coming up through his throat. Soon the realization of where the smell was coming from dawned on Anon and he shivered uncontrollably. Pulp was welling up around his shoes, staining their surface. In contrast to last time, the surrounding mess was the only thing left of whatever the grime used to be. Their were no torso-less legs. No ID. no body.

Something in the corner of the room was moving. He couldn't see what it was in the darkness. It just looked like an amorphous blob. He'd have to get closer if he wanted to see what it was. Anon stepped forward, creating a sickening squish as his foot landed on the carpet. In response the moving thing twitched sporadically and inched closer to the corner of the room, cramming itself between the wall and the splattered bed. It was shivering, sandwiched in its little corner. Every squishy step that Anon took caused it to jolt, every exhale made it quake. When Anon was within a few feet of it he could see that it was something wrapped up in a bundle of blankets. He could hear a faint chattering coming from within. It sounded like teeth clattering, perhaps even grinding together. As Anon peered over the bed it stopped shaking and he could hear an audible swallowing.

"Go away! Go away! I don't want you! Can you understand me? I don't want you!"

Anon's brow furrowed, it was obviously the counselor, but what was he shouting about?

"Mr. Johnson? It's me, Anonas."

There were no more signs of squirming from within the ball of covers as Anon spoke. He could see fingers slowly creeping their way out, grabbing the top of the cover and lowering it until Mr. Johnson's head was in view. He didn't lower the blanket past his eyes, it was as if he didn't want his face to be seen. Even though most of his face was covered he could tell the man's mental state couldn't be stable. His eyes seemed sunken and far off, and even though they were transfixed on Anon, they weren't truly looking at much of anything. The pupils shook and twitched like they could barely be contained to look in one direction for very long. The dark circles under his eyes suggested that he hadn't slept.

Anon could almost hear the skin on his lips cracking as Mr. Johnson spoke.

"An… Anonas? No. you shouldn't be here."

Anon didn't bother with the obvious fact that he shouldn't have been here, that was out of the question. He was supposed to be here, no matter how much he or anyone else told him that he shouldn't be. He could feel it. With every pang of sharp stabbing pain piercing through his skull, he could feel it.

"Whatever, what the hell is all this. What did this… mess used to be?"

Mr. Johnson winced and looked away. Tears were starting to brim at the corners of his twitching eyes. He didn't answer.

Anon frowned, unhappy with the lack of answers. He came all this way despite his fear, and if nothing else he was going to get the knowledge he so desperately craved.

"Fine then, don't tell me who it was. Just tell me what happened, what happened here? What happened to Mr. Leon? And don't give me that 'you won't believe it' shit, I want to know everything."

There was a brief pause as Mr. Johnson's thoughts tried to organize themselves.

"I didn't mean to do it. I swear, I didn't mean to do it. The thing, that ghost following me. It made me. It started off with me just seeing it out of the corner of my eye. Then it started going after the birds that were annoying me in my sleep. Then it became stronger, lashing out at things whenever I got stressed."

"The ghost?" Anon's breath caught in his throat as he recalled the figure following him "How did it do that to a human body?"

"Its fear, Anon. That thing, my ghost. It's my fear. It spreads my fear like a plague. It just wants everything to go away. I want everything to go away. It destroys what doesn't run away."

"when did it- no, what started it? Was it that voice?"

At the mention of those words Mr Johnson's eyes went wide. He began to tremble once again, pulling the covers up back over his head.

"Don't tell me you've heard it too," he moaned "that voice that freed my ghost, that told me it's name. No, don't tell me. Don't tell me don't tell me don't don't don't don't!"

Fear was indeed leaking from the man wrapped up in the covers. It was the invisible haze enveloping the house. That air of filth and grime that Anon could taste as soon as he stepped inside. It was gagging and choking, pushing him away. The fear itself moving his joints to make him take a step back. To make him retreat.

"Go away, Anon, get away. My ghost is coming, Please Don't Touch is coming, Anon! No matter what you can't let it touch you!"

With those words Mr. Johnson's form began to shift and blur like he was a mirage. Although Anon couldn't see it, he could feel its presence filling the room. He could see the monstrous footprints in the grimy carpet.

Pain shot through Anon's skull like a bullet. He could hear it. The voice. He was awake but he could hear it just like in his dream.

"You who can hear me!"

He moaned and dropped to the floor. Holding his head in his hands.

"That inner you that calls to me,"

The pain was jolting through every fabric of his being. It was forcing him to lie down. It was as if a giant weight had been wrapped around his entire body. It was crushing, his vision blurring. 'no! Not now! I need to move'. Anon's mind was racing, trying to function under the power of the voice.

"Awaken it! Break its cage!"

Anon could see the footprints drawing closer. The monster, Please Don't Touch as Mr. Johnson had called it, must have been only a foot or two away now. Anon's hand limply flopped out onto the ground ahead of him. His hand clenched and he dragged himself forward. He needed to get away before he was turned into a stain on the carpet.

"Reach for it, your Stand. The other you that I can hear! Speak its name! Call it forth! Let it hear you as I do!"

Everything was starting to go dark for Anon. His vision was black. He was still dragging himself across the ground. he could still feel his heart racing, but his sight had gone. He couldn't tell if his eyes were jammed shut or if he really had lost his sight. As he reached forward one last time he saw it. He saw the words in his mind, the only thing he could see. His salvation. His savior from death. He was no longer reaching for the ground to pull himself forward. He was reaching out to grasp that figure that was following him. He was reaching for his ghost, his stand

"SCAR TISSUE!"

He heard a heavy sound. Like a person hitting metal. The pain in his head was gone, the voice no longer tormenting him with its force. His knuckles hurt, the pain reminded him of whenever he got pissed and punched a wall. That was the only thing he could feel. That vibration in his knuckles. There was no longer a force pulling him to the floor. He pushed himself to a stand. There was no longer a sense of dread looming over him. He faced his attacker.

With his focus on the sensation running through his fists he was free to open his eyes.

Before him were two strange beings and although he had never truly seen either of them before, he was capable of recognizing both of them. One was the figure he had become so familiar with. That man with the face of a painted skull. It wore a purple garb around its shoulders and neck. It had no skin on its chest or the inside of its arms. The skin that was there looked like it had been connected to the muscle with golden stitching. A scarf was wrapped around its stomach to prevent anyone from seeing the skinless mess that was undoubtedly underneath. Golden rings hung from its lower jaw, more were wrapped around its joints. It pants were baggy and purple, cutting off at the knees. Its calves and feet seemed to be hazy, fading in and out. It was Anon's first time really seeing it but it's image still felt familiar. Like he had always known it.

Ahead of Scar Tissue stood the straight jacket bound monster from Mr. Johnson's drawings. It was leaning forward, looking down towards the ground. Slime leaked and bubbled out from between its rows of jagged yellowing teeth. It dribbled to the floor, pooling at its spiked feet. There was a rough indent on its metallic face giving more insight into the pain in Anon's knuckles.

In the corner of the room Mr. Johnson was buckled over, cradling his cheek. Blood was trickling down his lips. Tears streaked from his now bruised and swelling eye. Anon understood immediately, whatever happened to Please Don't Touch would happen to Mr. Johnson. From that he guessed further that Scar Tissue must work the same way. He could tell simply from the sensation he felt in his hands after Scar Tissue seemingly clocked the monster ahead of him.

This immediately posed a problem that Anon was going to have to get around. He couldn't have Scar Tissue kill Please Don't Touch without also causing the death of the shaking man in the corner of the room. However, he didn't think his opponent was worried about not killing Scar Tissue. While he wasn't going to kill Mr. Johnson, Anon had no qualms about beating the shit out of him to survive. Even so he was going to have to go on the defensive if he wanted to live and spare his counselor. Please Don't Touch would Stop reeling from the force of Scar Tissue's punch in a few seconds. He had to act before then.

Mr. Johnson's voice cut through his thoughts before he could come up with a plan.

"Anonas, you touched him! You have to run away! Now!"

Before Anon could ask what he was going on about, before he really had time to process the order that was shouted at him, he felt a crushing pain in his chest. Scar Tissue must have felt it too because it was frantically scratching at the skinless flesh covering its chest. Through its scarred fingers Anon could see a new form slowly appearing on Scar Tissue's chest. Wires were embedding themselves into its flesh, causing a burning sensation in Anons own skin. An electric clock had formed in Scar Tissue's middle, the same one that was connected to the chains wrapping around Please Don't Touch. In fear, Anon tore open his jacket and shirt revealing the same clock to be implanted into his own chest.

All at once, they started to count down. Fifty nine seconds was on the clock.

"Anon, you won't die if you just run away!"

With Mr. Johnson's words running through his mind the only thing Anon could think of was to run. He turned on a dime and bolted, dread starting to pump through his veins once again. He heard a shrill inhuman scream from behind him and the heavy footsteps of Please Don't Touch's monstrous body.

After four steps Anon had escaped the room and turned down the hall, his foot falls creating crackling noises as he ran across the crumpled drawings of the stand chasing him.

After ten steps he had reached the end of the second floor hall and was at the stairs ready to run down them. However it was also after ten steps that he noticed the absence of sound behind him.

He turned just in time to see Please Don't Touch soaring through the air mid jump, its spiked feet jutting outwards, aimed at Anons throat. They were like the talons of a hawk tearing towards its prey. The claws glistened as they stretched towards the soft flesh of Anon neck. In response Anon's body shimmered like a mirage and then doubled as he subconsciously called out Scar Tissue to defend

The curved velociraptor like talons stopped centimeters away from cutting through Anon. Scar Tissue hands gripped tightly around the attackers ankles, holding Please Don't Touch in the air. Saliva dribbled from its two sets of jaws, a guttural snarl escaping from deep within its core as it struggled to free itself. Seemingly in response, Scar Tissues grip tightened in an effort to crush the ankles it was holding and prevent any further chase.

Anon had to stop and turn as Scar Tissue held Please Don't Touch up by its ankles. He couldn't go any further. He could feel it, he was tethered to his stand. If he took one more step away, Scar Tissue's power would decrease and it would no longer have the strength to continue its defense. He was only about seven feet away from Scar tissue at this point, but Please Don't Touch was in a completely different room than its user and was still going strong. Anon cursed under his breath as he realized that even with distance he was at a disadvantage. He would have to end it soon if he wanted to get away from this alive.

"Scar Tissue, finish this now!"

Conviction flowed between Stand and User as Anon shouted his orders. It seemed as if a fire ignited in Scar Tissue, the liquid seeping out of the gashes on its hands began to sizzle and pop. Please Don't Touch began to shake and writhe around more and more as the metallic skin of its legs began to dissolve, the liquid eating away at everything it touched. It started to howl but was quickly silenced by Scar Tissue loosening its grip and delivering a powerful knee to Please Don't Touch's skull.

There was a moment of stillness as the attack connected where Anon remembered to hold back as to not kill his counselor. Following through with the attack Please Don't touch flew across the hall and hit the wall with a heavy thud. It shook there on the floor reeling from the pain of being hit in the head once again. It wasn't even able to try and come to a stand. Its head was spinning, there was no way it was going to be able to move in the seconds that followed. Additionally, while looking at the spot on its ankles where Scar Tissue grabbed it, Anon noticed that the area was still burning. The liquid dripping out of Scar Tissue seemed to be acidic, not to mention sticky. It was slowly eating away at Please Don't Touch. This was it, it was completely open to attack. It wouldn't be able to defend while its head was rattling from the force of Scar Tissue's knee. Now was Anon's chance to defeat his opponent. He would walk up to him and strangle the stand until it and Mr. Johnson passed out. That would be the easiest way out of this.

However, as Anon stooped down next to Please Don't Touch and outstretched Scar Tissue's hands to wrap them around his enemies muscly neck, he heard a low ticking. He looked at the clock that was wired to Please Don't Touch, the same one that had been embedded into his own stand. Unlike before when Anon was running away, the seconds were ticking down.

00:27

00:26

It wasn't ticking when he was running but it sure as hell was now. Anon cursed loudly and grabbed at his chest, it must have been ticking down the whole time he was defending himself.

00:24

Not only that but Anon himself was starting to feel increasingly hot. He was burning up, way hotter to the touch than any fever could cause. It was like a great fire was starting to burn within him, a roaring fire that was struggling to consume him with every passing second.

At 23 seconds Anon came to the realization of what was happening. Just so much as touching Mr. Johnson's stand had turned Anon into a ticking time bomb.

He stepped back quickly as this realization struck him. He didn't have enough time to defeat Please Don't Touch. It wasn't counting down while he was running away, but as soon as he stopped to defend himself the countdown started. Anon came to the conclusion that as long as he refused to run the clock would continue to count down. That must have been what Mr. Johnson meant when he said Anon wouldn't die if he ran.

In the 3 seconds it took for him to consider this, he hadn't realized the shift in Please Don't Touch. Suddenly the thing savagely shot out, its double set of mouths opening wide to bite down on Scar Tissue's shin.

"SHIT!" pain shot through his leg as a chunk was torn away from his stand. The top layer of skin was torn off, the teeth stopped before really coming down into Scar Tissue's muscle. It wasn't a deep or serious injury. but it hurt like hell. The pain was intense enough to send Anon and Scar Tissue stumbling back. He turned mid fall and caught himself before he could hit the ground. Pulling himself to a proper stand was a struggle but he managed to do it quickly enough to get away from a second bite.

The first bite however made it nearly impossible to run. Every time Anon took a step on that leg it felt like it was going to give out on him, but he had to keep moving. The clock had stopped ticking as soon as he stumbled away from Please Don't Touch giving him some hope of surviving. He swallowed hard as he shambled towards the stairs. He felt in over his head, he had no idea that Mr. Johnson was host to such a terrifying ability. If he had known he probably wouldn't have come here in the first place. That however was the crux of the issue, he would never be able to live it down if he didn't know what was going on. He cursed himself for following his curiosity so far into danger.

He took harder and harder steps, pushing his bleeding limb past the limitations the wound had caused. The ability to make others flee, that was Mr. Johnson's power. Anon could feel it from the thick miasma of dread to the counting clock embedded in his own chest. He felt his heart, his fingers passed right through the clock but he could tell it was still there. The ghostly wires that were connecting it to his chest felt like they were growing white hot, preparing to blow. He guessed he only had about 18 seconds left. He huffed and turned, using up one second to prepare himself for the pain that would shoot through his leg as soon as he stepped down the stairs.

He had 17 seconds that could be used for defense or offense, but he had no intent on using them up. He was cutting it close enough already, it felt like he was running an absurdly high fever, way higher than was humanly possible.

Anon heard the clicking of claws from behind him, he had been so wrapped up in his own head and escaping that he had nearly forgotten about the beast chasing him. He could feel its breath on his neck as it got closer, he was far too slow to escape its grasp at this pace. The clacking noise of its clawed feet had reached the step directly behind him now, it was going to bite him again, he could feel it coming.

That was when Anon fell down the rest of the stairs. On his last step with his injured leg an immense pain caused it to buckle and he fell through the air.

He first hit the third step in front of him and he heard something in his shoulder crack. Next he tumbled down the seventh step and hit his injured leg causing him to yelp in pain. After that he came to the end of the steps and crashed into the floor. His vision blurred as he slid and bashed his head on the wall.

Everything hurt, it felt so agonizing that Anon's brain was having a bit of trouble processing, causing him to not be able to feel much. Something in his arm felt like it was fractured, his leg was not only bleeding but was also heavily bruised. His spine was failing to work properly at the moment and he himself was failing on his many attempts to sit up. On the plus side, he had gotten away from Please Don't Touch. On the even worse side he could hear his timer ticking away as he laid there. He managed to flop a hand onto his chest and pull down his shirt to look at the clock.

00:12

A quiet rasping noise escaped Anon's lungs as he tried to curse. Through his dimming vision he could see Please Don't Touch crouching down. Its curved talons glimmering as it prepared to lunge down the stairs. Anon himself was in no position to get out of the way of the stand's pounce. If the time bomb didn't kill him first, Anon was sure that those rending claws would. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. He took shallow breaths through his teeth, quietly preparing for his throat to be torn from his body.

At 9 seconds he heard Please Don't Touch jump from where it was standing. He could hear it sailing through the air, guttural noises and growls coming from deep within its core.

At 8 seconds it was three feet from impact with Anon's soft flesh. At 8 seconds Anon opened his eyes to face his death head on. At 8 seconds Anon saw that the metallic flesh coating Please Don't Touch's ankles was still burning, the liquid spreading as it ate away. That image of those corroding legs flashed again and again in his mind, as if it was trying to convey one single message. 'this thing isn't indestructible'.

At 7 seconds a flood of adrenaline shot through Anon's veins filling him with energy. Those gleaming claws stuck in Scar Tissues flesh as Anon summoned his stand with the rest of his willpower. As the blood squelched out of his leg and the clock hit 6 seconds time seemed to slow down once again. In less than in instant his vision cleared and the pain flooding his body ceased. With his left hand Scar Tissue pulled the talons out of its legs, throwing Please Don't Touch off. Scar Tissues right hand shot out to grab Please Don't Touch as it fell back. The cool dead flesh of Scar Tissue's fingers gripped onto the stand's toothy face. With all the force he could muster Anon had his stand slam Please Don't Touch into the ground. It crashed into the hardwood floor, 4 seconds still on the clock Anon raised himself to his feet.

He wasted all that time running away, his fears driving him back instead of facing the monster head on. His stand wasn't meant for running, he could tell. No, Anon should have been using Scar Tissue to stand his ground the entire time. With a cool head he could see its weakness, how it used that fear leaking from it to mask them. He truly had the advantage the whole time, but was intimidated into believing he was fighting a losing battle. It turned him into a being of pure instinct and fear. That really pissed him off.

At 3 seconds a roar of anger escaped from Anon's throat, "GIVE EM HELL, SCAR TISSUE!"

The exclamation seemed to fuel Scar Tissue as it lurched forward and delivered a series of punches to its victim's face. The first hit connected with Please Don't Touch's chin, a blow that would almost certainly knock a person out. The punches didn't stop there however, he continued to land blow after blow on his opponent, barely being able to hold himself back enough to prevent Scar Tissue from seriously injuring Mr. Johnson. His cry continued to ring out through the air as each punch reinforced it. "Give em hell! Give em Hell! Give em HELL! GIVE EM HELL HELL HELL HELL HELLHELLHELLHELL!"

At 1 second he landed the final blow and ceased his Stand Cry, Please Don't Touch slid back from the force of the last punch. It was sprawled out in a heap, it didn't move, and while Anon knew it wasn't dead he couldn't imagine it would be getting up anytime soon.

Before the clock could hit the dreaded 00:00 it dissipated along with Please Don't Touch. The fight was over, and honestly, Anon was having a hard time being happy about it. He was so exhausted that he collapsed right there in front of the stairs. That last burst of energy combined with all of his wounds had sapped all the strength that was left in his body. He wished with all his might that instead of winning the fight it could have just not happened at all, that would save him a lot of grief. Everything that just transpired was so unbelievable that Anon was beginning to wonder if he ever really woke up this morning, but the pain that he was feeling coursing through his body reminded him that this was very much real. Still though, in spite of this fact he closed his eyes and waited to wake up in his bed. He laid there for what seemed like forever just waiting for his wounds to disappear, waiting to feel the softness of his bed against his back.

It never came, but he was pretty happy to just to get a chance to lie down with his eyes closed.

After several more minutes he opened his eyes to check if the world around him was still really there. To make sure that he was still lying on the floor and hadn't just woken up from a dream. Greeting him when he opened his eyes was Scar Tissue, looking down at him with those eyeless sockets. Anon cracked a smile, his stand looked pretty silly just waiting there patiently for him. He raised his hand and reached up to it. A few seconds passed and Anon's hand remained in the air, stuck there reaching, his fingers spread wide apart.

Slowly Scar Tissue reached out and grabbed its users outstretched hand. Their fingers interlocked. Anon could feel the thin liquid dripping out of Scar Tissue's cut up palm. When he was angered and the slime had gotten on Please Don't Touch it was acidic and burning. Yet to Anon it felt cool, almost soothing against his bruised skin. Anon got the feeling that this skull faced stand was always going to be there and would never do harm to him.

"Help me up, Scar Tissue."


	2. Stands

**Chapter 1.5 Stands**

Anon limped up the stairs, wincing as he put his wounded leg on the first step. His battle with the Monstrous stand Please Don't Touch was over. Yet he knew that he wasn't done in this house, he still had business with Mr. Johnson. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to say to his counselor once he got to his room but he'd worked it out. He had time, Mr. Johnson probably wouldn't wake up from his knuckle induced nap for a little bit.

Something instinctive deep within Anon's mind was fearful of what would happen if Mr. Johnson awoke and his stand attacked again. Anon's logical mind however was well aware of the ease he could beat Please Don't Touch if it attacked again. It's body may be coated with metal but its defenses were weak. It's only means of protecting itself was the fear that it spread, and now that Anon was aware of this it would never work on him again. He laughed at himself for being so afraid, taking the next step up the stairs as he did so.

It was still crushingly dark in the upstairs hallway but the thick miasma of dread had left the entire building. However what wasn't going to go away was the gore covering Mr. Johnson's bedroom. Anon hadn't forgotten about the mess, but still ended up gagging at the mere sight of it as he opened the door. The stench of the whole thing was what was really bothering. He could avoid stepping in it so he wouldn't have to feel it under foot. He could close his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at it. The one thing he couldn't do however was prevent that pungent smell of rot and death from going entering an burning the inside of his nostrils.

It was disgusting, the putrid smell of insides mingling with the burnt odor of the stained carpet. The last time Anon walked through this room he was too frightened to even inhale the scent, but now it was suffocating. He slowly tiptoed through the room, being careful not to step in any of the squishier spots of the carpet. He felt filthy just standing in their but he had no choice. He reached the corner of the room where Mr. Johnson sat, wrapped up in a pile of blankets. He was breathing (and snoring) deeply, drool dripping out of the corners of his mouth. He appeared so relaxed, his resting expression far removed from the one he wored when Anon had first entered the house. He looked to be in a deep sleep. Anon smiled, he had a brief worry that he didn't hold himself back enough and had killed the man, he was relieved to find out the contrary. Mr. Johnson looked rather peaceful, sleeping there without any worries. Anon sat down on the crimson bed and sighed. It was a nice contrast from how he normally was. Usually his counselor was a bundle of nerves walking around in the vague shape of a person. He was the kind of guy that was just plain stressful to be around. Not the kind of personality you would necessarily want as a counselor. Anon was not one to judge however, so he shoved those thoughts aside.

Mr. Johnson was starting to snore louder and louder. Anon leaned forward, figuring that now was the time to wake him before he got any louder. Anon had a headache and the last thing he wanted was to be forced to listen to deafening snores. He crouched down next to the sleeping counselor, grabbing his shoulders he shook him lightly.

"Yo, Mr. Johnson, get up."

He didn't wake, causing Anon to shake a bit harder. "Ay, Mr. Johnson. Mr. Johnson! _Mr. Johnson!_ "

He was still asleep, and Anon was quickly staring to get more than a little frustrated. He pulled his hand back and smacked Mr. Johnson's cheek with his open palm. There was a weird catharsis to bitch slapping a member of school faculty, but it wasn't the time for Anon to dwell on that.

Mr. Johnson awoke with a start. He seemed dazed for more than a couple seconds, but as soon as he recognized the shape of Anon standing over him he stiffened. At once he yelped, threw up his hands as if to guard himself, and scooted back further into the corner. His back was pressed against the wall and he shivered uncontrollably.

"Anonas?! Wh-what? How? You're not dead? Where's Please Don't Touch, is it dead?" Mr. Johnson was firing off questions one after another, he didn't even stop to take a single breath. he was talking so quickly that it was surprising that he didn't pass out again. Anon didn't quite know which question to answer first, so he chose to just started with the obvious.

"No, I'm not dead, but I did get the shit kicked out of me…" he mumbled that last part, kind of embarrassed to admit it, he then cleared his throat, "and no, Please Don't Touch isn't dead, if I had killed it you'd be dead too."

That sent a shiver down Mr. Johnson's spine. It truly hit him how he would never be rid of that horrible thing.

He gritted his teeth and swallowed his fears, "Alright, but why are you still here? If you're alive then that means you must have escaped Please Don't Touch's Ability, so why did you come back"

"I didn't escape it, I beat it."

"you… _beat_ it?"

"I punched it."

Mr. Johnson stared at Anon blankly.

"Like, _really_ hard"

There was a brief pause after Anon finished. Mr. Johnson's confusion was over shadowing his fear at the moment and he had stopped shaking. He sat up straight and took a deep breath.

Anon smiled, it was good that Mr. Johnson was calming down. That would make it far easier to talk to him. Although he was sure if it came down to it he wouldn't have any problems defeating Please Don't Touch again, he didn't want to start a needles fight. He waited a few more moments, observing his counselors emotions to see if he really was on track to calming down. The last thing Anon wanted to do was knock the poor guy out again. Thankfully there were no signs of Mr. Johnson suddenly getting stressed and accidentally summoning his stand.

"Anyways, Mr. Johnson, there is a reason why I'm still here." he mulled over how he was going to phrase his next sentence without upsetting Mr. Johnson, "when I mentioned that I heard a voice, you freaked out. I know you heard it too. Not only that but you said that it was the voice who told you the name of your stand. Your ghost, as you put it."

Mr. Johnson glanced around the room and then slowly nodded

"yeah, it was that voice in my head that cursed me with Please Don't Touch…"

"And it was the same voice that gave me my Scar Tissue"

"Anon" Mr. Johnson hesitated for a moment before continuing, "what are you trying to get at?"

"What I'm trying to say is… if we have gained abilities like these, there must be others who heard the voice. I think, no I'm certain that there are more people who have gained stands."

The two stand users sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Every second that passed stretched to infinity as they thought about the implications of this revelation. Just one person unable to control their stand had already killed a man, as well as whatever was splattered across Mr. Johnson's bedroom. Anon shuddered to think of the chaos a psychopath could cause if they gained one of these powers. Mr. Johnson thought about the ramifications of the voice itself. Was it some kind of god? Or was it simply another stand user? Not only that, but was giving people stands the only thing it was capable of? Mr. Johnson didn't want to jump to that conclusion. He could remember the pain he felt in his head when the voice spoke. He could still feel that crushing weight emanating from his skull. It was obvious from the way Anon crumpled to the floor that he had felt the power of the voice too.

It wasn't that hard to imagine that pain killing a person.

"Mr. Johnson, that's not the only thing. I wanted to ask you to keep an eye out. I felt something on my way here. I felt a strange pull guiding me to your house, it was like fate guided me right towards you. I could _feel_ that I was destined to be here. I was drawn here to you, and that's when I got my power. That was no accident." It was easy for Mr. Johnson to follow where Anon's thought process was leading.

"You're saying that fate led you here, because of your powers?"

"Yes. This is just a hunch, but if I was led to you because I was unlocking my stand… I think all stand users are like that. Maybe fate guides us to each other. Like I said it's just a hunch, and I'm often wrong, but I can't shake the feeling that I was drawn here because of our stands."

Anon stood after revealing his revelation. He wasn't sure exactly what he was doing or what was going to happen next. He could only imagine the trouble that he could get wrapped up in if his hunch was correct. A single stand battle had left him exhausted, bruises and cuts lining his body. He shuddered, thinking of what a stronger stand could do to him. He didn't understand exactly what stands were, but he already understood the danger that came with them. He had a sinking feeling that these stands, whatever they were, would lead to his death.

"Watch yourself, . I have a strong feeling in my gut that this won't be your only battle with a stand." with that Anon turned and left the gore splattered room.

He wasn't sure of how safe it was to ally himself with the volatile Mr. Johnson… but he didn't want to see him dead.

The steps leading downstairs seemed so inviting, offering Anon an escape from the anxiety filled house. He gently padded down the steps, being careful not to strain his gashed leg. The bleeding had stopped but it still hurt like hell. Every step caused the wound to feel like it was going to open up again, causing him to walk with a limp. Anon wasn't quite sure if it was safe to walk home in his battered condition, but there was no way he was going to get in a car with Mr. Johnson again. Being trapped in a small space with Please Don't Touch seemed like a surefire way to get himself killed.

Anon's hand reached out to turn the knob on the front door. Opening it, he could feel the sunlight on his face as it broke through the darkness of the house. He could finally breathe as he stepped out the door. The dread and worry filling the air in the cold grimy rooms didn't make it to the outside and for what felt like the first time in an eternity Anon felt clean. There were no birds on this particular strip of road, an indicator to the human mind that something was wrong… but Anon knew he was safe. The sun stung at his eyes and the cool air bit at his skin. He loved every single feeling that the outside world was giving him. The miasma in the house seemed like it had seeped into the fiber of being, filling him with the anxiety that Mr. Johnson was constantly emanating. Being outside however, the morning sun glowing brightly overhead and the wind blowing gently made Anon feel like he was being cleansed.

He outstretched his arms and took a deep breath. Soaking up his reality is what he needed right now. The fact of what was happening had just begun to fully hit him, but surviving that battle made Anon feel immortal. It was like he was truly alive now, like all of his luck in life was leading up to this singular moment of survival.

He plastered the biggest dumbest grin he could muster on his face, completely unaware of the eyes that were on him.


	3. Jessie is a Friend

**Chapter 2- Jessie is a Friend**

It had been one week since Anon's last battle. His mom had freaked out when he came home all scraped up, blood soaking through the leg of his jeans. To Anon's surprise she didn't ask him where he had been, she wasn't even angry at him for sneaking out.

She just hugged him, tears beginning to brim at the corners of her eyes. They collected in big pools before finally breaking free to stream down her cheek. Anon leaned down to hug his mother. This was his fault and he knew it. He didn't regret what he did, but that didn't stop him from feeling any less terrible about frightening his mother. She must have been so scared when she came into his room to find her son gone, pieces of glass and bits of clock strewn around the room destroyed in a fit of emotion. He shouldn't have frightened her like that, especially not after the news of the murder that had taken place at school. As she cried, a terrible winding pain settled in the pit of Anon's stomach and a choking noise escaped from his throat as he tried to apologize. He couldn't get the words out so instead he gripped her tightly.

Now he was lying on his bed, a bandage wrapped around his leg, another clung to his arm. Tiny multi colored band aids coated his body in various places. Apparently he had hurt himself pretty bad when he fell down the stairs, thankfully however nothing was broken. He had sprained his arm, but that had healed quickly and yesterday he stopped wearing the sling he had been given.

It had been pretty quiet after his last fight. He hadn't been attacked by anyone else with an out of control stand or anything like that. School had also been canceled for a week following the appearance of Mr. Leon's body. That combined with the fact that he had been grounded for sneaking out made it so he had no contact with the outside world. Everything was slow to put it bluntly. The days passed like any other day, but it wasn't like Anon had any problem with that. It was nice to be allowed to just lay around, and that peace meant he was safe. He sat in bed and skimmed the book he had borrowed from the library, the one place he had been allowed to go this week.

It was impossible to focus on it at all though. It wasn't that he had a short attention span… well, he did, but that wasn't the reason he couldn't read. There was something else bothering him today, something in his gut was grumbling and protesting the idea of what was to come. It was Sunday and he had to go back to school tomorrow, which was exactly what he was dreading. It didn't seem unlikely that another student at his school could have gained a stand and the thought scared him. Mr. Johnson's Please Don't Touch and his own Scar Tissue were so different in both form and function that he couldn't even guess as to what the next stand he encountered would be like. It made his head hurt and the words on the page he was reading seemed to be moving rapidly, his head spinning.

He swore he could hear laughing in the back of his mind. Like the future stands he knew he would have to face were taunting him.

A beep from his laptop snapped his attention away from the book. He was going to ignore it, but as soon as he tried to look back at the page it beeped again, shrill and sharp. He carefully closed the pages, no longer able to hold the small shred of concentration he had. He rolled off his bed, landing in a half stand half crawl. He stood up straight, stretching until he felt several audible pops from his joints.

The laptop beeped again.

"Jesus Christ, shut up."

He lazily stepped over to his desk. He stood there staring at his laptop, waiting for it to sound that blaring beep again. He didn't really want to even open. He was grounded after all. Sure, it was purely voluntary, a ploy to make himself feel less guilty about making his mother cry. Despite that, he didn't want to do anything he wasn't supposed to, even if his mom never found out about it.

Like clockwork however, the computer beeped a third time, prompting Anon to reach out and flip it open. What greeted his eyes when the screen blinked to life was definitely not what he was expecting. The screen was dark, a single prompt in its center. A single question.

" _Are you there, Anonas K?"_

Anon's throat dried up immediately. He forgot about his ban from technology and sat down, his hands hovering above the keyboard. He couldn't exit out of it, he couldn't turn off the computer, he couldn't do anything but type a response. His fingers tightened as he considered what to type. Should he even respond? He had to be careful, it was almost certain in Anon's mind that this was another stand user. Even the simplest of responses could put him at a disadvantage...

But the same curiosity that led him to Mr. Johnson was beginning to take over his logical mind. His fingers hit the keyboard and he simply typed _yes_.

Immediately he saw a reply type itself out.

" _It's very nice to meet you."_

Anon swallowed before typing. This person already knew his name, this 'meeting' was just a formality. Anon understood. This was a play to show he wasn't in power. He scowled and continued to type

" _Who are you?"_

Just like last time the reply came abruptly, deleting his last message.

" _I can't tell you that yet, just think of me as… a potential employer."_

" _an employer?"_

" _Yes, I know about the power you've gained and that you've already used it. Let me say, I was quite impressed with how you survived the onslaught from that dreadful stand."_

" _you mean Mr. Johnson's ability?"_

As soon as he pressed the final key he regretted it. He cursed out loud as he realized that he had just named Mr. Johnson to a potential enemy. If they knew who Anon was, It wasn't unlikely that the enemy was aware of Mr. Johnson being a stand user, but if there was still a chance of his identity being a secret then Anon had to protect it.

His fingers raced over to the backspace key as he frantically pressed it over and over to erase the evidence. It was too late though, the next message was being typed before his eyes.

" _yes, him. His stand has power, but his lack of control over it makes him utterly useless to me. Not like you though. Your stand seems to follow your orders… speaking of, have you learned what it's ability is yet?"_

Anon typed back " _no"_ which was only a half lie. He knew the liquid Scar Tissue produced was acidic in nature, but he didn't quite understand its limits or what it could do. It felt cool against his own skin, but when it had gotten on Please Don't Touch it burned. He hadn't even called out Scar Tissue since then. He felt a little bit scared to for some reason.

" _A shame. However, I would like to strike up a deal with you nonetheless."_

" _a deal?"_

" _yes, I will have need of you. When these times come I will exchange your help for my protection."_

A chill ran along Anon's back as his eyes traced along the message. To him this sounded like a thinly veiled threat. That it was inherently dangerous to deny this opportunity.

He carefully chose his next words, slowly typing them out.

" _and how can we trust each other?"_

" _I have no reason to distrust or betray a pawn, Anonas. If all comes through, you will be handsomely rewarded."_

Anon had not always been the best at taking hints. He was clever, sure, but he was clueless when it came to picking up on meaning. This however… this was far different. Every possible meaning was going through his mind, every single outcome running across his imagination until it made a giant tree of branching futures. He didn't have a choice, although he was being asked to accept, his answer was ultimately not needed. If he was already contacted, if his name was already known, if his stand had already been seen by this enemy, then he already lost to them. Before he could gather himself and regain his composure enough to type his response, a new message popped up on-screen before the computer's light blinked out.

" _I'll contact you during the school day tomorrow"_

Monday. The teacher talked away. His words blending into a dry amalgamation of sounds that failed to catch Anon's attention. He kept checking his phone when the teacher wasn't looking. No texts or missed phone calls. His eyes kept darting over to the window. Nothing unusual outside, same old withered tree next to the streetlamp. His eyes then skimmed over to the clock. 10:17, there were 4 hours and 13 minutes left in the day. Wait no, the minute hand just changed to 10:18... 4 hours and 12 minutes left for Anon to be contacted.

He turned his head slowly to look at the students around him. To his left was his friend Eileen, her face very obviously buried in her phone. Behind him were some guys he hung out with every once in awhile, Ian, Jacob and Connor. They were laughing loudly and talking about… some videogame? Anon couldn't tell without eavesdropping too much into their conversation and he didn't want to intrude. Directly in front of him sat the kid who had transferred in last month, Jessie.

Jessie was weird. He seemed cool and charismatic enough in the limited conversations the other students had with him. Problem was, he just never talked to anyone unless prompted to. He seemed like the kind of guy who would rather kick his feet up on his desk and take a nap instead of talking. Which was exactly what he was doing. He wasn't snoring, but by the way his head was lulling from side to side suggested he may have been out for more than a few minutes. From this and the other actions Anon had observed in the month Jessie had gone to his school, Anon guessed that the transfer student wasn't a very good student. But hey, it wasn't like he could judge, Anon himself wasn't the best student either, really only doing enough work to pass. Jessie probably had a higher grade than him if only because he just started going here.

He turned his head away from his dozing classmate and looked towards the door. Nothing in the hallway.

At this point Anon was getting finicky. it seemed like he was never going to get that message. He didn't know why he was so nervous about it, it wasn't like he even really had to respond to it. Despite the potential danger in refusing this 'employer' he was doubtful if anything would actually happen if he just ignored the requests. As long as he stayed on their good side he would probably be find. At least that's what he hoped. A scowl crept onto his face as the realization of how little he actually knew occurred to him. For all he knew he could have gotten the message already and not even known. It wasn't like he was told how he was going to get the-

On the teacher's desk the phone rang. Anon's head snapped to attention as his eyes pulled themselves over to look at the ringing phone . His head pressed up to the receiver, the teacher nodded, said "yeah-huh", nodded again and looked over at Anon. His finger outstretched, motioning to Anon and then to the door.

"Anonas, they need you down by the office. They said to take your bag with you."

A chorus of oohs came from Ian, Jacob, and Conner, mimicking the kind of exclamation preschoolers do when someone gets in trouble.

Anon stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he presented his middle finger to his friends behind him.

His foot falls sounded in the empty hallway. He listened to the echo. The sound his steps made as his feet made contact with the tiled floor filled him with a sort of uneasiness. It was so loud. Anyone just around the corner or hiding elsewhere was definitely able to hear him. He knew he was just being silly, worrying about some hidden attacker. Afterall, he was promised protection for his work. There was no real reason to be scared of being followed, but the thought of him actually being contacted by some mysterious figure was… nerve racking to say the least. It was freaky to think that he was the only person in the hallway, no one to make noise to overshadow the sound of him walking. Just as he was beginning to round the corner into the next hallway his phone let out a loud shrill beep. It almost sounded like a scream. Anon jumped, half believing that he was being attacked by some sort of stand. His heart rate slowed as he realized it was just his phone, pulling it out to check why it had made that noise.

He could guess what it was without checking, but he still had to look. Greeting his eyes was a new message from the employer.

" _Anonas, the classroom to your left, room 204, is empty. Go in there and close the door behind you."_

Anon swallowed as he stared at the message on his phone. They knew where he was? Did their stand ability allow them to see him? No, if they did, they wouldn't have had to ask if he was there when he was first contacted. Then how? A terrifying thought came over him as his head turned to the dome like security cameras on the ceiling. His employer had hacked both his computer and his phone to contact him, it wasn't impossible to think that they could hack into the camera's video feed. That must have been it. Anon couldn't be viewed while he was at home, while his computer's camera could be hacked into it wasn't like it was going to work while it was closed. He made a mental note to put a bit of tape over the webcam when he got home.

Anon looked to his sides to see if anyone was near before he made his way into room 204.

He swallowed and reached for the door knob, was he really going to follow these orders? It took him less than a second to decide that, yes he was. His best reason being the curiosity of wondering how this all was going to play out. Luckily the door was left ajar so he was able to get in, if it was closed the door may have locked automatically. He quickly pulled the door open enough so he could slip through, he then side stepped into the classroom, pulling the door gently shut behind him. There appeared to be no one around, but he still wanted to make as little noise as possible just in case.

He breathed in and surveyed the empty classroom. To Anonas it didn't look like there was anything of interest in the room. It just looked like your normal classroom, dumb literature posters lined the wall, desks were propped neatly in rows. A flag for the local college 'Hollowbank University' was hanging over the teacher's desk. Papers were cluttered next to an empty mug of coffee. It looked like nobody had been there since at least first period. There was nothing there and Anon had no idea what he was doing, besides just standing there dumbly. Frustrated, he pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket, the last message still on the screen. His fingers moved quickly over the keyboard as he typed out his question.

" _The fuck am I doing?"_

" _Top left drawer on the desk. She left her car keys in there. Retrieve them and I'll tell you what to do from there."_

Had he seriously been employed to steal car keys? Somehow, as ridiculous as that was, it was more mundane than what he had been expecting. He leaned over the desk, his fingers outstretched as he reached for the drawer handle. His hand retracted, his head turning upon the sound of footsteps reaching his ears. There was someone quickly walking towards this classroom. Was it this class' teacher? Shit, he didn't have time to think it out.

His phone beeped.

" _The closet, Anonas. There's a closet to the right of the desk. Hide."_

Anon had no time to disagree with what he was told. In three quick steps he was next to the closet door and was pulling it open. His gaze snapped to the door, whoever was outside was fiddling with the handle. It had locked when it was closed. Anon quietly thanked himself for closing the door behind him then stepped into the closet.

The lock clicked, the door swinging open. There was a shuffling noise as the teacher entered the classroom. Anon slowed his breath and made it as soft as possible. It wouldn't be the end of the world if he was caught, but it sure as hell would make his life a lot harder. He heard footsteps getting closer towards him, the teacher walking over to her desk. Out of the tiny crack of the closet door he could see her bend down next to her desk. She slid the top left drawer open and Anon could hear a jangling noise as she snatched up the car keys. She mumbled something about how she needed to stop leaving them in there and then sat down. ' _Shit'_ It was going to be harder to get away with this than Anon had initially thought.

It was suffocating in the closet, Anon's only comfort being the small crack in the door where air was coming through. He was getting finicky being stuck in there having to stand so still. He needed to get out ASAP, but that damn teacher didn't look she was going to be moving anytime soon. He pulled out his phone and looked down at the faint glow of the screen.

A new message had silently popped up while he had been peering out of the gap in the door.

" _What's happening?"_

So he was right. They were watching through the cameras, which this room had none of. Happy about his prediction being spot on, a smug smirk grew on Anon's face as he quietly typed his response.

" _The damn teacher is just sitting there. She has the keys too. This might take a while."_

He stood there for the next minute and a half waiting to get a reply or for the teacher to get up. It didn't look like either was going to happen though, which really sucked as Anon was starting to get a crick in his back. He didn't exactly fit in the closet, it's ceiling was too low and Anon was too tall. He needed to get out soon or he was going to fall over and create a racket. ' _C'mon, get off your ass and get out of here!'_ he yelled in his mind, partially hoping that if he did so she would telepathically follow his orders. Which of course she didn't.

Damn, it was getting stuffy and hard to breath in that closet. Anon had to cover his mouth to prevent his breathing from becoming too loud. Shit shit shit shit… he was going to be caught any second now if she didn't leave. He could barely maintain his balance and his breathing was beginning to become too deep to hide. She was going to hear or see him soon, and then he would actually have to go down to the office. His cursed again in his head, that would make getting those keys infinitely harder. Maybe he could use his stand to create some sort of distraction.

Just as Anon was beginning to reach his limits he saw a shadow pass under the class room door. Shit, it would be even worse if another person walked in and stood there like a jackass. Much to his surprise though, whoever it was knocked and then the shadow moved away. The teacher sat up from her chair, promptly waltzing over to the door. She opened it, looking around to see who it was that knocked. Perplexed, she slowly stepped her way out of the class.

"Where's that noise coming from?" was the last thing Anon heard from her before the door shut and she slipped out of view. What noise? Anon didn't hear anything, even straining his ears it was impossible to hear any sound from the hallway while he was still cooped up inside that closet. However, now that no one was in the room he was free to creep out and stretch.

"Thank god, I felt like a friggin Tetris piece crammed in there." several popping sounds came from his joints as he stretched, working all the stiff bits out of his muscles. Satisfied with his body no longer feeling so confined, he looked at the teacher's desk. He shuffled through the stack of papers to make sure the keys weren't under any of them. They weren't there. He figured as such, but there still might have been a chance that she set the keys down when she got up to answer the door. He had to make sure. He pulled open each drawer in the desk and looked inside. Christ… it looked like she really had taken them with her. He should have followed after when he had the chance instead of taking his sweet time stretching. If she was somewhere without cameras it was going to be hard to find where she went. Anon sighed and walked over to the door.

Before he could turn the knob he stopped and listened. He could have sworn he heard something coming from outside. It was like the noise that a can of air cleaner made. Only it was softer and more drawn out. He pressed his ear up to the door and listened. _Fsssssshhh._ Was this the noise Ms. Whatever had been talking about? What was it… Anon wasn't able to finish his thought. His thinking was cut off by him reflexively gagging at some horrid stench. He hadn't smelled it before he leaned up close to the door but now it was strong enough to where he had to stop himself from vomiting. It smelled like.. rotting meat? It was the kind of festering odor that attracted a horde of flies. What the hell was it? Anon quietly hoped that Mr. Johnson's Please Don't Touch hadn't splattered another random person. It certainly smelled like that was the case.

Opening the door took quite an effort, every fiber of Anon's being refusing to get closer to the source of the smell. He had to close his eyes and stop breathing just to work up the mental strength to turn the knob.

Opening his eyes Anon was met by a… rather stressful sight. There was no splattered corpse like he had feared, the only other person in the room being the unconscious body of the teacher. In front of him was a mesh of tangled vines and roots. They seemed to pulse and vibrate like a heartbeat was running through them. The vines writhed and wriggled around, seemingly spreading. Their thick wiry tendrils pierced the walls and ceiling as they continued to expand and grow. The air around them was a sickly yellow-green.

Sprouting from the great pulsing roots were giant flowers, aside from trees, they were the biggest plants that Anon had ever seen. They looked fleshy to the touch, blotchy white spots covering their giant orange petals. More of the great orange blooms were growing as Anon processed the situation. Shit, he really shouldn't have taken so much time looking for those keys!

To his left another of the grotesque flowers grew at blinding speeds. It seemed to become full size as fast as it had appeared. Once it reached maturity the flower hissed and opened up. Small spores floated up from the flower's center as it released that corpse like scent. Anon clasped his hand over his mouth and tried to stop himself from inhaling, the gears in his mind clicking.

The yellow in the air was all of the spores the giant flowers had released into the air. The unconscious teacher lying on the floor was covered in the spores, flowers growing around her. She was covered in the spores, and although she wasn't dead it looked like she wouldn't wake for awhile. Anon himself was starting to get a bit drowsy, a few of the spores had entered his lungs before he had the common sense to cover his mouth. To his knowledge, flowers weren't able to create a spore that induced sleep. That was just videogame stuff, but there was no doubt that a stand could be capable of producing that effect. He stumbled back, trying to get away from the spread of the sleeping toxin spores. He had already inhaled a few and his vision was getting blurry, if he let anymore work their way into his body he was sure to pass out.

He had to get rid of these plants, the acidic liquid Scar Tissue produced would no doubt be able to destroy the expanding roots, but calling out his stand before confronting the enemy could very well put Anon at a disadvantage. He needed to retreat while it was still possible.

"The Rafflesia is a parasitic plant that likes to burrow its way into vines. People actually call it the Meat Flower because of that rotten smell, the only part of the plant that grows in the open air is the Rafflesia's large grotesque flower…"

The voice was that of a young man and was coming from a clump of vines deep within the writhing mass of roots. A hand brushed them to the side and a figure could be seen. Whoever it was had his face wrapped in the tendrils, only his eyes could be seen under the shifting plants. Under the vines his lips parted so he could continue.

"... Usually, it can't produce these spores at all. With my stand however, creating a breed of super flower can make the impossible possible."

He stepped out from behind the spread of plant matter. Anon could see the car keys held tightly in his hand. The man speaking narrowed his eyes when he saw Anon staring at the keys in his grasp. He slowly moved his arm back and tucked the ring of keys away in his pocket. "I'm not going to kill you, Anonas. No, I just need this car key. But if you get in my way I'll mesh your face with this floor. I've been offered a lot of money obtain these keys and I'm not about to let some bitch take that from me."

Quiet tension hung in the air around the pair of stand users as they eyed each other. The enemy leaned forward ever so slightly as if he was taunting Anon, silently yelling at him to come closer. He had the advantage in this battle, his spread of flowering plants were close to taking over the entire hallway. All he technically needed to do was flee with the keys in hand and he would be the victor. That wouldn't work though. No, he was told that Anon was far too tenacious to just give up when the enemy is in sight. There was no way he wouldn't give chase if left to his own devices. If the plant faced man wanted to win this he had no choice but to incapacitate Anonas.

Still covering his mouth, Anon analyzed the situation. They were on the second floor west wing. The nearest exit was across the hall and down the stairs. There was another stairwell behind Anon, which had been what he had been eyeing as an escape route before the stand user showed himself. His opponent definitely knew this as well, judging from his stature and voice he was most likely a student and knew the school's layout. Anon didn't have much time to strategize, the flowers would spread all around him and end the fight if he took too much longer. He sighed, realizing that he shouldn't have spent so much time searching for the keys in the office.

Anon's form shivered and doubled, a second figure appearing out of his own. His stand phased into reality. Now was the time to attack, before his assailant could fill the room with even more flowers. He rushed ahead, shielding his face as much as he could from the sleeping spores. Ahead of him Scar Tissue lurched forward, its hand extending and its fingers curling making an almost grasping motion. Its hand sailed through the air as it ripped it down like the great claw of a beast. Shreds of plant fibers flew through the air as Scar Tissue cleaved through them, the acidic liquid coating its hands burned its way across the giant petals of the Rafflesia flowers. Anything that Scar Tissue's open palm touched began to corrode, the festering acid spreading like fire.

The vine faced man instinctively took a step back in shock, he hadn't been expecting Anon to take the initiative and attack. From what he was told Anonas K was more the analytical type than the acting type. He took several more steps back until he stood on a section of floor free of the pulsating roots. Here he could move freely and not have his movement obstructed by his own plants. By the looks of it, Scar Tissue was a close range power type, he had to be ready to deal with that. There was no doubt that Anon was going to succeed in his effort to cleave through his precious flowers. Currently, the pair was about 15 feet away from making contact with him. Just a little closer and Anon would enter into his range. once that happened, there would be no way for Anon to-

Something small and very sharp shot out of the mess of squirming roots like an arrow. It made a quiet cutting noise as it stuck itself into one of the vines hiding his identity. _What the fuck?_ He couldn't see what it was, but he knew it was still sticking into the vine. Slowly his hand reached up to his face and carefully plucked whatever it was out, bringing it close to his eye to observe. It was a thorn from one of his roots. What shot it at him like that? He squinted, trying to get a better look at the long thin spike. It was slick, like it was wet and it was making a very quiet noise. Suddenly his eyes widened and a scream escaped his throat. He threw down the thorn, realizing what was happening.

It was sizzling, that clear liquid coming out of Scar Tissues cuts had coated it and was slowly breaking it down. He felt a pain in his own hand, the tips of his fingers felt like they were on fire. He looked down and saw the clear liquid eating away at his skin. _Fuck!_ The stuff must have spread to his fingers when he touched the infected thorn. It wasn't spreading fast but it hurt like hell. As he looked at his infected hand, an expression of fear grew on his face, his body began to shake. He had to get it off. He had to get it off! This stuff tore through his plants and even erased the spores it made contact with. If it could completely disintegrate plant matter then what could it do to human flesh? He held his breath and shook his hand from side to side trying to flick the acid off. Despite his best efforts it didn't look like the stuff was going to come off, it was like super glue. The upper layer of skin was gone now, the soft tissue underneath now exposed to the air.

"I have to say, you're pretty unlucky. It was only a theory that Scar Tissue's acid would spread between objects. I had yet to try it out."

The enemy stand user flinched, a jolt of surprise lanced down his back. He had been so distracted with the acid that he didn't even notice Anon's approach until he was already behind him.

He turned a second too late. A bellow of strength came from Anon's core, his form once again doubling. Scar Tissue's gnarled fist connected with the vines covering the man's face. There was a crunch of breaking bone and he reeled back. Blood leaked through the space between the tendrils hiding his identity, underneath them his nose was definitely broken. His hand shook as he gingerly brought his fingers up to try and feel the wound but at the last second he retracted.

Anon leaned forward and took a powerful step towards his opponent. His eyes were cold and steely, a hint of rage building behind them. "Smart move, the acid spread to the vines on your face too. I assume you don't want it getting on your face and making it more of a mess than I'm going to," he clenched his fist, his voice coming out as a growl, "I'd get them off as soon as possible if I were you."

He had no choice but to do as Anon suggested, he turned to look at his foe. As he did so the plants rippled and squirmed, they began to wither and in less than a second they were dust. Anon got a good look at him then spoke.

"It's… um, Jessie, right?"

Jessie didn't say anything, he just gritted his teeth and stared at Anon.

"Shit, I'm going to feel bad beating up the new kid." he stopped talking for a second as his mind trailed off thought " Tell you what, you give me those keys and I'll refrain from punching you so hard that your intestines will turn into a smoothie."

"What? No? _Shut up_ , I'm not giving you jack shit!"

Jessie's gaze swiftly shifted to the wall, Anon followed his line of sight. A vine to his left twitched. Before he could even react the vine sprung forth and lashed across his face. Scar Tissue's hands shot out to try to grab the vine and destroy it but it moved sporadically, dancing around his grasp. It hit him like a whip and a small spray of blood flew into the air, a long thin cut opening up across Anon's cheek and nose. In surprise Anon stumbled and fell, his mind focussing on the crazy movements of the whip like tendril.

While Anon was distracted Jessie's image rippled like a mirage. The form that took shape was that of a woman's torso. It had no lower half, just a spine that hung out of its middle. Where its arms should have been were two vine covered branches, with each movement they made, the branches snapped and repaired themselves to take on new shapes until they finally took that of two long thin arms. It was wearing an expressionless mask, one side made of porcelain, the other of stained glass. Its eyes were thin slits, no pupils seen under the shining surface of the mask. Petals hung from the back of its head like hair. Glassy floral patterns covered and floated around its body. " _Jessie's Girl!"_

Anon attention snapped back to his enemy, his freshly summoned stand floating behind him.

"Jessie, I'll ask one last time, give me the keys." he outstretched his hand. With both of their stands at the ready this was going to get very chaotic very quickly. It would be easier to just defuse the situation now.

"If you stop now I can stop that acid from eating your entire arm off." Anon wasn't sure if that was true, but it didn't stop him from giving the offer.

"Eat shit, I already said I wasn't giving you jack." he immediately became a liar as he gave Anon the finger, "I have a job to do, man, just hurry up and eff off."

Anon sighed. "I didn't really want to fight you…"

He began to run towards Jessie, who surprisingly didn't stand his ground. "...but I'll end this before things can get serious!"

Jessie turned the corner behind him. He had no reason to actually fight Anon in a straight one on one, so it was officially time for him to split. He just needed to escape long enough to make it to the car that the keys unlocked, then he would be home free. Besides, it wasn't long until Anonas would be down for the count.

' _Damn he's running like a bitch!'_ Anon's thoughts were frantic as he chased after his classmate turned foe. Shit, he was _fast._ He had to be at least ten, no fifteen feet ahead of him, way too far out of Scar Tissue's range. Jessie must have run track at his previous school because it didn't look like his stamina would be running out anytime soon. That was alright though, Anon didn't need to run faster than him, he just needed to out maneuver him.

If his memory proved correct., then the window they were approaching led into a dead in hallway at the left. He'd catch Jessie there. With nowhere to run, his Scar Tissue would make short work of the enemy in seconds. Jessie would have no choice but to admit defeat and surrender or be knocked unconscious by a barrage of punches. All Jessie needed to do was turn and it would be all over.

He just needed to turn. Any second now he would slow down and make the turn.

Any second now he would turn and lose... Any second now… anyyyyyyyy- He wasn't turning. He wasn't even slowing down, in fact if anything it looked like the bastard was speeding up. His feet were hitting the ground faster and faster, propelling him further than last time with each successive step. ' _What is he? Oh christ, he's not seriously going to try that, is he?!'_ They were on the second floor, that was at _least_ a twenty five foot drop, and that was being generous. what could he be thinking? Even if Jessie survived the fall he'd have far too many injuries to continue his escape.

Jessie foot hit the window sill, flinging himself up and over. He vaulted through the window with an ear grating crash. Anon ran up to the window sill and peered over the edge. His heart was beating out of his chest and it wasn't just from all the running. He couldn't lie, he was a bit nervous that he had just driven a classmate to accidental suicide. Much to Anon's surprise though, Jessie had a plan. A vine grew along the wall, running down all the way to the ground. As soon as it sprouted Jessie grabbed on and slid down like it was a makeshift rope. A few seconds and one rope burned hand later, he landed safely on the grass in a roll, and made a full on sprint to the parking lot, running as fast as he had been before jumping out the window. Anon had to admit that it was a bit impressive that Jessie didn't even lose momentum.

Anon stood there looking over the edge, broken glass still falling from the shattered window frame. He was a bit dumbfounded to say the least. He truly had not been expecting Jessie to pull that. He was so dumbfounded in fact that he failed to realize that the vine was withering at an astonishing rate, by the time he realized what was happening it was too late. The plant crumbled into dust as his finger shot out to grab it. "Shit! There's no way I can catch up now!" Anon hollered, slamming his fist down on the window ledge in frustration. This was bad, he was going to have to go all the way around to catch up to Jessie. Luckily he had time, Jessie had gone to the school long enough to learn the basic layout, but clearly he wasn't fully accustomed to the outside of the school. The dumbass was running in the exact opposite direction of the staff parking lot.

Anon pulled himself away from the window and began his mad dash towards the stairwell he had been eyeing earlier as an escape route. He hurried as best he could, pushing his speed to the limit. That crash that Jessie made when barreling through the window was LOUD, someone was bound to come investigating sooner or later and he didn't want to be around for that.

He threw the doors to the stairwell open and dashed through just as a door near the broken window opened.

His foot hit the first step and then the second, one after another. He had just gotten to the steps and already he was breathing hard. It was strange, was he already winded? He certainly felt like that was the case, but he hadn't ran very far or long. His pace slowed as he realized that he really needed to work on his cardio. His foot hit the third step and his body began to shake.

There was a large gap of time before he was able to plant his foot firmly on the fourth. Anon felt more... lethargic. Like his body was weighed down by chains. As he tried to regain his breath he came upon the realization he could hardly breathe in or out. Panic seized his body and mind as what was happening fully hit him. His hands raced up and clutched at his chest and throat, fearfully scratching at his flesh in a blind panic. He couldn't breathe! He couldn't-

He fell off the fifth step and hit the landing with his shoulder. He would have cried out in pain but they only noise that came out was a strangled gag. He tried to come to a stand but each time he failed, slipping painfully back to the ground. He didn't even have enough strength to stand at this point and it terrified him. He fell onto his back, writhing around and holding his chest. His fingers dug into his skin hard enough to leave marks. There was a winding pain in his lungs like they were being crushed. They felt like they weighed hundreds of pounds, like they were filled with every substance on earth but air.

Anon's body shook as he tried to get to a stand once again, only managing to raise himself up on his knees and hands. His eyes went wide, his body forcing him to violently cough and hack. He felt something smooth and thin slip through his throat and pass his tongue. It was silky and It tasted like earth.

His vision blurred. He felt like his eyes had become an unfocused camera. He stared at the thing he just coughed out of his lungs. When his sight finally returned enough for him to make it out he immediately took a double take.

Sitting on the tiled ground between Anon's hands was a lone petal covered in spit. His mind stopped functioning for a split second, he wretched, more petals escaping from his lungs with a cough. A flower? That rat shit Jessie put a flower in his lungs. ' _How and when?'_ were the only thoughts that Anon's distressed brain could formulate. His hand twitched, carefully inspecting the vine inflicted cut on his cheek and nose. It hurt like hell when he touched it but he didn't pull back. He continued to push his fingers deeper into the wound until he felt something weird. It wasn't skin, and it wasn't part of his cheek bone.

He didn't want to know what it was but he felt like his survival was dependent on finding out exactly what had burrowed into his face. His fingers were slippery from his own blood and his hand was shaking because of the lack of oxygen. Nonetheless, he gripped the object, his fingernails digging into it, and pulled. A long thin root slathered in Anon's blood slid out of his cheek. Instantly he let out a yelp. Pain shot through every nerve in his face and chest. It felt like he just squeezed his own lungs like a stress ball.

He let go of the root and fell onto his side. He pulled about a foot of plant matter out himself and it didn't look like that was anywhere close to the end of it. Judging from the pain coursing through his body, the root probably went all the way down his throat and around his lungs. When he pulled on it he must have accidentally pulled on his insides as well. No wonder it felt like his chest was on fire, he wouldn't be surprised if the root had actually entered his lungs. No matter the case, Jessie's flowers were most definitely growing within the confines of Anon's body like he was a green house. How many flowers had grown, Anon couldn't tell. He briefly wondered how much longer he would remain conscious. If enough flowers grew within his lungs there would be no way for him to breathe and he would pass out. Or die. Most likely the ladder.

Judging from the amount of petals that he was hacking up, he didn't have much time left.

After having to loop back around the school, Jessie had finally made it to the staff parking lot. Finally, his promised reward was in his grasp. He closed his eyes and briefly day dreamed of what he could do with the amount of money this job was said to pay. Maybe he'd buy those shoes he was looking at. Or maybe he'd get a nice stylish jacket to replace the one that he was wearing now. He cursed Anon for ruining it with Scar Tissue's sickening acid, but in a few moments his tattered outfit wouldn't matter. Soon he'd have enough money to replace it four times over. He just needed to find the car that the key unlocked and he would be good to go. He wasn't quite sure what the car looked like, but it didn't matter. He had plenty of time to find out. Afterall Anon would be down for the count no matter what. His flowers made sure of that. It would be impossible for him to make it down here without fainting from lack of oxygen. Even if he could breathe enough to stay awake, he wouldn't be able to exert himself in any way.

It was a shame he was so far away. If he was in range he could have Jessie's Girl make another sleeping toxin Rafflesia. That would be far less complicated and would be less likely to kill poor Anonas. Of course that was impossible now, with him being so far away from his lovely blossoms, he had lost input on them. The most he could do at that range was wither the plant away.

Now however was not the time for that. He didn't want to _kill_ Anonas, and would destroy the flower as soon as he was no longer a threat, but he was clearly still alive and awake. He looked down at the hand infected by Scar Tissue. Instantly his entire being was filled with a mix of regret and disgust. It was more than a little gross to look at, not to mention it was shocking for his brain to process it as his own hand. The flesh on his hand wasn't the only thing being eaten away, the skin on his entire arm was being burned away now. There was no blood, the acid appeared to be eating that away too. Looking closer he could tell that the stuff was also cauterizing the area around what it was dissolving. It was bizarre, at first it hurt like he just plunged his hand into fire, but now… now his entire left arm was numb. Judging from the speed of which he was being eaten, Jessie guessed he didn't have long until it started to reach his head.

He didn't even want to imagine what would happen when it reached his neck. All he could do was hope that Anonas would faint and his power over the acid would go away. If not, Jessie would be in deep shit. Thinking about it made him want to vomit but he managed to choke it down.

He pulled the key out of his back pocket and pushed the unlock button, listening for the sound of a car's lock. Somewhere to his left, a couple of rows over, there was a clicking noise. Jessie grinned and he forgot about this currently disintegrating appendage. His mind was once again filled with the thought of being showered with money and he followed his ears to the source of the clicking.

It was here. Jessie traced his hand over the hood of the car. This was it. He peered into the windshield, slightly dismayed that he couldn't see anything within. The key to his reward was in here. He beamed as his hand grasped the handle and pulled the car door open. He crawled inside and began his search.

It was messy in the car, trash and papers were strewn along the floor and dashboard. A tacky souvenir from god knows where hung from the rear-view mirror. A fluffy jacket was sprawled out in the back seat. It was ridiculously huge and a passing thought almost led him to try it on as a joke. Somehow, most likely the thought of money, he managed to keep his teenage brain on track. Jessie sat in the driver's seat and rifled through the papers, throwing the ones he didn't need out into the parking lot. He didn't know what he was looking for but it was going to be easier to find it without all the garbage and 'important' documents cluttering his view. He just needed to find it, the _special object_ , and he could leave and claim his reward. He wondered what it was, but he knew thinking about it was useless. According to the messages he would know when he found it. He would know it when he saw it and it would be like he had always known it. Whatever that meant.

It was sketchy, sure, but he didn't really care. He lifted up the coat, checked the pockets, then tiredly threw it to the ground. He was being offered a large sum of money, far more than he would make working at his grandmother's flower shop. Why should he question that? He looked inside a bag of chips, pulled one out, ate it, then unceremoniously threw it away. Besides ever since he awakened his stand, Jessie's Girl, life had been getting a lot stranger. He might as well go with the flow and do what he was told. Going against the waves of life would just get him in trouble and make things harder for him. If his relaxed lifestyle taught him anything it was to choose the easiest path. Denying a mysterious employer who knew not only his name but his stand as well definitely wasn't the easiest path. He opened the glove compartment and began to search it like a racoon rifling through a trash can.

There didn't appear to be anything important in there. Pack of gum? Delicious but unimportant, Jessie threw it out the window. A bottle of medication? Nah, he didn't need that. He threw it over his shoulder and it clattered on the pavement as it rolled away. The car's registration? Why the hell would he care about that, he wasn't a cop. He crumpled it up and shot it like a basketball. He hollered the name of his favorite basketball player as he launched it across the parking lot. He turned his attention back to the almost empty glove compartment and pulled out one of the last items inside. Xanax? _Nice_. Jessie stuffed the container into his pocket. He glanced back into the compartment, throwing some papers to the side. It looked like he had emptied the entire contents of the glove box out into the street and there was no sign of that _special object_. Maybe it was in the trunk.

He propped himself up and was going to find the button that popped the trunk, but as soon as his eyes caught the rear view mirror he froze.

There, standing behind the car, was Anonas K. Very much awake and very pissed. No. No, no no. This was not good. He thought that he would be out of his hair for at least a couple hours. He shouldn't be standing, he should have passed out long before making it to the first floor. Were his petals not strong enough? Had Jessie overestimated the power of his plants? Maybe being so far away lessened his stand power. That must have been it, there was no other way for Anon to be standing there.

Anon himself looked more than a little bitter. His eyes were opened wide and he was looking dead ahead at the car parked in front of him. His mouth expressed no emotion but it twitched like it was containing anger far more intense than what was within his piercing gaze. His hands were down at his sides, clenched into shaking fists. There was a thin gash across his cheek and nose that was spurting out a tidal wave of crimson. The collar of his shirt was stained forever red by his blood. If looks could kill then Jessie probably would have been splattered across the parking lot like one of Please Don't Touch's victims. At first he just wanted to stop Jessie before their fight put them and others around them in danger, but now he wanted to wring his neck. After a few silent seconds of Anon shooting daggers into the car with his stare he took a step forward. Slowly his twitching lips parted so he could speak. His voice came out low but it seemed to project across the entire lot, carried by a seething anger.

"You know, Jessie, you'd think someone with the ability to make plants" he looked down at the garbage on the ground. The wind blew and carried several papers into the air, "Would care more about litter." Anon watched the crumpled up pieces of paper ride the wind and climb high into the air. He closed his eyes and for a moment Jessie could have sworn that he looked calm. Like the water resting after a large wave. That what he wanted to believe anyway, but as the wind blew again it was clear how childish that wish was. With his eyes still closed, Anon took a step forward, unconsciously crushing the discarded pill bottle underfoot

Jessie's breath caught in his throat. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Now was his chance to defeat Anonas. He was about seventeen feet away. About two more feet and he would be in Jessie's Girl's range. That's when he would lose. As soon as the bastard was within range Jessie would take control of the root burrowed into his body and fill his lungs with sleeping toxin. He just need to remain calm and he would be the victor.

"Come out, Jessie. Give me whatever it is you found in there and we'll call it a day." he held out his hand like he was expecting the requested item to just spontaneously appear in his open palm. "I'll be honest though, I really want to take it by force." He closed his outstretched hand, clenching his fist hard enough to hurt the skin on his palm. He stepped forward, he was so agonizingly close to being within range of Jessie's stand and he didn't even know.

"But for some damn reason I'm feeling a bit generous. The acid on your skin could have eaten your entire arm by now if I wasn't so nice. I slowed it down and made it only devour the top layer of skin and nerves. Doesn't that prove my generosity?"

Another step forward. There was a vibration the Jessie could feel from his very core. It was the feeling of Anonas stepping into range. It was the feeling of victory and he could taste it. He could taste his prize and the feeling of triumph. His mind became a laser, focusing in on the root inside of Anonas. He had won

"Honestly, I'm impressed, Anonas, you might have actually won this if you'd just been a little bit smarter." He chuckled dryly, his stand fading into view, "But that'd be impossible for a dumb fuck like you wouldn't it? Well that doesn't matter…" with a mischievous grin plastered on his face, he turned and pointed out the back windshield, "Because you lose Anonas!"

He honed in on the root that was using Anon as fertilizer. Jesse's Girl focused all of her stand energy on it and began to create the most potent sleeping toxin flower yet. It would be the perfect flower, it's toxin the strongest in the entire world. Hell, maybe it would be so strong that Anon would never wake up again. At this point, Jessie was a bit too frightened to really care. Maybe after Anon became a real life sleeping beauty he'd leave Jessie alone forever. He liked that idea, and it was only a matter of seconds until it would be realized.

As soon as his stand energy poured over Anon he would fall into the deepest and most restful sleep that a human would ever experience.

Or that's what Jessie thought. He waited for Anonas body to freeze. For his eyes to flutter and mind to fade away into the land of an everlasting dream. It wasn't happening though.

Jessie was the one to freeze up as his eyes widened, confusion taking hold of his body and his fear growing stronger. Why wasn't it working?! No no no no no no! It had to work! His victory was in his hands, there was no way for it not to work! Why wouldn't he fall asleep?

A smug shit eating smile grew on Anon's face and Jessie's own open mouthed grin shattered.

" Where'd that smile go, Jessie? Weren't you just yelling about how a dumbass like me could never win this battle?" Anon's eyes narrowed "What? Surprised those bitch ass flowers of yours ain't working?" his voice boomed through Jessie's head.

"well, If it's any consolation, it wasn't pleasant having Scar Tissue reach down my throat to destroy that disgusting root. It was strange to have some of my own acid burning inside myself, but I guess it had to be done."

Anon had reached inside himself and destroyed the root? Impossible! how did he manage to do that before passing out? How? Why? Why? Why why why wh-

Jessie's frantic thoughts stopped. His entire brain flat lined. He closed the car door. Not a single word passed through his mind as he pulled the key back out. He put it into the ignition. With a twist the car roared to life and Jessie laid his shaking hand on the stick shift.

He pulled back, putting the car into reverse.

A tense silent moment hung in the air, Jessie eyes looked lifeless ahead. Anon either had yet to process what was about to happen or he just plain didn't care. He looked almost bored, waiting for Jessie to pull whatever he was going to pull.

Jessie was certainly ecstatic to oblige. A scream bellowed up from his throat, but there was no emotion behind it. He was screaming just to make a noise, just to put some power behind his next action. Every single thought that had been pushed to the back of Jessie's mind melded with the echoing sound. His foot hit the gas with such force it was surprising that he didn't smash it.

The car roared and shot back, the tires screeching. Jessie still yelled but there was no longer anything behind it. No power let alone emotion. He didn't know what would happen next, he didn't know what Anon would do. He didn't know what he would do if he hit Anon. He didn't know what he would do if he didn't hit Anon. He didn't care. He was just going through the motion. He didn't even turn to look he just stared out the window in front of him. He just kept looking out the front windshield like nothing was happening or was going to happen.

There was a sudden jolt as the car hit something. Jessie's head almost hit the dashboard from the sudden stop. His ears began to ring. Did he actually crash into Anon? Would running him over really have caused the car to stop dead in its tracks? His foot was still pressed hard against the gas, but there was no movement. He heard the faint screeching of tire against asphalt. The car was still trying to rocket back but it was denied all movement. Slowly his foot pulled away from the pedal and his shaking head turned. He had to see what had happened. He had to find out, even if he was afraid.

Behind the car was Scar Tissue and Anon, both of them bending forward, theirs arms outstretched and pushing against the back of the car. Scar Tissue's gnarled fingers were pressed firmly against the trunk. Metal sizzled as the acid ate away. It made a growling noise and it's teeth began to grind. Anon followed his stand's example, a quiet moan escaping through his own clenched teeth. His arms were slowly being covered in harsh purple bruises. Even with the help of his stand, stopping the car clearly took a massive toll on his body, even with the help of his stand it was a miracle his arms didn't break from the impact.

"Yo, Jessie..." Anon let out a long sigh akin to a balloon deflating, " Don't die in there, kay?"

His voice was deep, low, and calm, but there was a slight tinge of tiredness. Despite the easiness of his voice, he was visibly shaking.

Inside the car, Jessie was too dazed to hear Anon's words over the shrill ringing that echoed through his head. Although Scar Tissue clearly didn't care if its user was heard or not. The skull faced stand was quivering, a faint hazy smoke seeped out from between its teeth. It's fingers clenched and Anon could hear the harsh grating sound of metal tearing. There was no stopping Scar Tissue now. Its teeth gnashed. Flakes of burning metal clung to its twitching hands. Although it's face was unable to express emotion, it's movements suggested that it was the carrier of the rage Anon was refusing to release. It was clear that any emotion Anon was hiding would come out in the form of Scar Tissue, and his anger was no exception.

Anon laid his hand on the stand's shoulder and gave a smile that on the verge of . "Give em' hell, Scar Tissue."

That was the only confirmation the skeletal stand needed. Scar Tissue growled as its fingers sunk into the dissolving metal, and with a massive surge of strength flipped the car. Jessie yelled in fear as he tumbled around the interior. A brief passing thought made him really wish he had put on his seatbelt, but that thought was pressed down by the rest of his brain screaming. For a split second the car stood on it's nose, slowly falling forward. That was when Anon delivered his attack. Scar Tissue pulled back it's hands, clenched it's fists, and began to pummel the underside of the car.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. The two punched fast enough to almost be a blur, all the while the pair yelled their cry.

"Give em hell Scar Tissue! _Give em_ _hell hell hell Hell Hell HELL HELL HELL HELL HELL HELL HELLHELLHELLHELLHELLHELLHELLHELL!_ "

Two punches and metal flew from the impact. Four punches and the car groaned. Eight more punches and the engine cut off. Fifteen punches and the axle buckled. Twenty punches and the car bent inward. Thirty punches. Fifty punches. Seventy punches. One hundred punches. Two hundred punches. Three hundred punches and the car went flying. It continued tumbled and rolled over on its side. Scrap flew as its mangled frame hit the asphalt over and over until it finally came to a stop about 30 yards away. It rolled one last time, its momentum dropping. It stopped on the very tips of the tires on it's left side, threatening to fall over.

Scar Tissue floated above the scrap covered pavement, it's chest slowing rising and falling with each breath until it finally faded away. Inside the car, the acid festering on Jessie's flesh faded away.

There was a brief silence that was suddenly interrupted by the car's alarm going off as it finally fell back onto all four of its wheels. The alarm blared for a few seconds, the noise distorted from the damage the car had incurred. Slowly, the door opened. Jessie stepped out, his legs shaking and threatening to buckle beneath him. Every fiber of his being seemed to be shivering. He collapsed to the ground, lost his lunch, rolled over on his side, and promptly passed out. The barrage Anon had just delivered lasted less than 6 seconds, but to Jessie it felt like he had been tumbling around in that car for a year.

Anon breathed heavily as his anger cooled, that last rampage was leaving him feeling exhausted. He groaned and fell into a sitting position. He gingerly explored the gash along his cheek, cringing painfully as the pain flooded his face. He didn't care what the potential reward for all this was, it definitely wasn't worth it. He sucked in air through gritted teeth as Scar Tissue gnarled finger pressed up against the gash. Under normal circumstances, the acid leaking out of his stand felt like nothing more than cool water to Anon, but as he willed it to burn along his flesh it happened just as his thoughts commanded.

As his wound began to cauterize itself, Anon spotted something glimmering, an object was shining brightly in a pile of discard scrap. His eyes squinted when he looked at it, trying to make out what it was. Anon desperately wanted to just sit down and rest, to regain the stamina he had lost in the conflict, but for some reason he felt oddly drawn to it. There was a pulsing in his mind and in his soul, a steady heartbeat reverberating through his body. Eyes transfixed, breath slowing, Anon came to a stand and began to stagger across the parking lot. What was he doing? He no longer felt like he was in control of himself, his entire body had been taken over by the sudden drive to collect the glimmering shape in the torn scrap. He was so far away from it and yet he was completely consumed by his desire for it.

He bent down next to the pile of shredded metal, plunging his hand into it. Several cuts opened up as his hand scraped against the jagged edges. He didn't care, he had to acquire the item that was resonating in him so deeply, an that was the only thing he had to do. It was the only thing on his mind. The fight, his exhaustion, his wounds, the chaos the fight had created. None of those things mattered anymore. His hand tightened around what felt like smooth rounded glass. It felt like it was most likely a bottle. He pulled his hand out o the scrap pile and looked at the item in his grip. Sparkling in the light of the sun was a jar filled to capacity with sand. Up close Anon could tell that the bottle wasn't in fact glowing, still, despite the dark color of the sand inside the container, it seemed to be shining brightly. It appeared as if it didn't come from this earth.

Immediately Anon understood that this is what he had been hired to find. He didn't even need to be told. Something innate in him understood that what he was holding in his hand was far more important than anything else he had ever laid eyes on in his life. It was purely instinctual. His body understood as if it was encoded in his DNA, and just as he responded to it, so did it to him. The sand shifted like it had a mind of its own. Despite the fullness of the jar it was evident that something inside the sand was shifting and flowing towards Anon. It wasn't until a few moments later that Anon noticed the label tagged onto the lid of the bottle. Two words were written on the label in scrawled letters.

' _Devil's Palm'._


End file.
